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THE 


COOPERATIVE  COMMONWEALTH 


IN  ITS    OUTLINES 


AN  EXPOSITION  OF  MODERN  SOCIALISM 


BY 


LAURENCE  GRONLUND 


*•'  My  object  is  not  to  make  people  read. 
But  to  make  them  think." 

Montesquieu  —  Spirit  of  Lawn. 


BOSTO'N' 
LEE    AND    SHEPARD,    PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK 
CHARLES    T.    DILLINGHAM 


•Copyright,  1884, 
By  Laubence  Gbonlukdu 


.~rK 


TO 

THE  ONE  WHO  HAS  BEEN  MOST  INTERESTED 

In  the  progress  of    my  work; 

TO  MY  SYMPATHETIC  WIFE 

I  dedicate  this  book. 


m6^633'? 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter.  Page. 

To  THE  Reader ,  7 

I.  The  Peofit  System 12 

II.  Social  Anarchy 34 

III.  The  Culmination 55 

IV.  The  Sphere  of  the  State 75 

Y.  Expediency    of    the    Co-operative    Common- 
wealth    100 

VI.  Social  EconOxMy lo2 

VII.  Democracy  vs.  Party  Government 155 

VIII.  Administration  of  Affairs 108 

IX.  Administration  of  Justice  ........  186 

X.  Woman .  201 

XI.  Education 215 

XII.  Morals  .    .  \    .    . 234 

XIII.  The  Coming  Revolution 259 

5 


TO  THE  KEADER. 


A  dialogue  on  "  Political  Optimism"  in  the  Nineteenth  Cen^ 
tury  for  August,  18S0,  contains  the  following  language : 

"  We  see  that  political  systems  in  all  progressive  societies 
tend  toward  socialistic  democracy.  We  see  everywhere  that 
it  must  come  to  that.  We  all  of  us  feel  this  conviction,  or  all 
of  us,  I  suppose,  who  have  reflected  on  the  matter.  We  feel, 
too,  that  nothing  we  can  do  can  avert  or  possibly  long  delay 
the  consummation.  Then,  we  must  believe  that  the  movement 
is  being  guided,  or  is  guiding  itself  to  happy  issues." 

This  passage  may  serve  as  a  key  to  the  following  pages. 

They  have  been  written  that  you  may  see  that  the  social  and 
political  phenomena  in  all  progressive  countries,  and  particu- 
larly in  our  own  country  and  Great  Britain,  are,  in  a  perfectly 
natural  manner,  evolving  a  New  Social  Order,  a  Social  Demo-  ' 
cratic  Order,  which  we  have  called  The  Cooperative  Common- 
wealth ;  in  other  words,  —  to  speak  pointedly,  —  that  Socialism 
is  no  importation,  but  a  home-growth^  wherever  found.  They 
are  written  to  give  you  good  reasons  for  expecting  that  this 
New  Social  Order  will  be,  indeed,  a  "  happy  issue  "  to  the 
brain-worker  as  well  as  to  the  hand-worker,  to  woman  as  well 
as  to  man.  They  are  written  to  give  reasons  for  our  convic- 
tions that  it  must  come  to  that,  here  as  elsewhere,  within  a 
comparatively  short  period,  or  to  barbarism. 

Barbarism!  —  Yes.  Let  not  yourself  be  led  astray  by  the 
remarkable  increase  everywhere  of  wealth  on  the  whole,  — 
possibly  the  under-current  is,  nevertheless,  carrying  us  swiftly 
backwards.  Suppose  you  had  told  a  Roman  citizen  in  the  age 
of  Augustus  that  his  proud  country  then  had  entered  on  its  de- 
cline, —  as  every  school-boy  now  knows  it  had,  —  he  would 
have  thought  you  insane.  Now,  the  many  striking  parallels 
between  that  period  and  the  times    in  which   we  are    living 


S  INTRODUCTORY. 

must  have  forced  themselves  on  your  attention,  if  you  are  of 
a  rerteetive  turn  of  mind,  as  we  assume  you  are.  You  will 
liave  observed  the  same  destructive  forces  to  which  History 
attributes  the  fall  of  pagan  Rome  busily  at  work  under  your 
very  eyes.  You  see  the  same  mad  chase  after  Avealth;  you 
find  everywhere  the  same  deadening  scepticism  in  regard  to 
high  ideals.  You  observe  in  all  our  centres  of  activity  a  cor- 
ruption —  I  will  not  say  as  great  as,  but  —  promising  in  due 
time  to  rival  that  of  the  Roman  Empire.  Be  careful  not  to  be 
too  scornful  if  we  prophesy  that  in,  say,  twenty-five  years  from 
now. — if  not  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  should  then,  per- 
chance, be  realized  —  the  demagogues  of  New  York  City  will 
buy  voters  by  free  public  feasts  and  theatricals,  that  you  will 
hear  the  cry  of  ^'-panem  et  circenses  " —  ''give  us  bread  and  cir- 
cuses," if  you  live  then  !  Indeed,  we  have  already  read  in 
the  N.  Y.  Tribune  :  "  Every  one  of  our  civil  Justices  has  giv- 
en a  day's  "  outing '  to  the  wives  and  children  of  his  district." 
Even  now  in  many  of  the  States  wealth  seems  a  pre-requisite 
to  the  attainment  of  Senatorial  honors  and  millionaires  and 
sons  of  millionaires  are  bidding  for  seats  in  the  lower  house  of 
Congress. 

But,  for  reasons  hereafter  set  forth,  we  do  not  believe 
our  race  will  return  to  barbarism.  The  Roman  Em- 
pire was  saved  from  that  fate,  finally,  by  being  reanimated. 
Our  age  as  fully  needs  reanimation  as  the  period  of  the 
Caesars.  We  shall  be  reanimated  :  history  will  once  more  see 
Society  reconstructed  on  a  new  basis. 

Says  Huxley :  "  The  reconstruction  of  Society  on  a  scientific 
basis  is  not  only  possible,  but  the  only  political  object  much 
worth  striving  for."  True,  emphatically  true!  Except  so  far  as 
it  is  implied  in  this  sentence  that  any  individual  or  any  nation 
can  go  to  work  and  arbitrarily  reconstruct  Society  on  a  scien- 
tilic  or  any  other  basis. 

Socialism — modern  Socialism.  German  Socialism,  which  is 
fast  becoming  the  Socialism  the  world  over — holds  that  the 
impending  re<^onstructioa  of  Society  will  be  brought  about 
by  the  Logic  of  Events;  teaches  that  The  Coming  Bevolution  i» 
strictly  an  Evolution,    Socialists  of  that  school  reason  from  no 


INTRODUCTORY.  9 

assumed  first  principle,  like  the  French  who  start  from  "  So- 
cial equality  "  or  like  Herbert  Spencer,  when  in  his  Social 
Statics  he  lays  it  down  as  an  axiom,  that  *'  every  man  has  free- 
dom to  do  all  that  he  wills,  provided  he  infringes  not  the  like 
freedom  of  every  other  man  ;  "  but  basing  themselves  on  ex- 
perience— not  individual  but  univprsal  experience — theycau 
and  do  i)resent  clear-cut,  definite  solutions. 

It  is  this  German  Socialism  which  is  presented  in  the  follow- 
ing pages,  with  this  important  modification  that  it  has  been  di- 
gested by  a  mind,  Anglo-Saxon  in  its  dislike  of  all  extrava- 
gancies and  in  its  freedom  from  any  vindictive  feeling  against 
pei'sons.  who  are  from  circumstances  what  tlioy  are.  In  the  first 
three  chapters  we  present  the  Soci;ilist  critique  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  era  in  which  we  are  living  ;  in  the  next  three 
chapters  we  indicate  the  coming  Social  order  which  will,  prob- 
ably, develop  itself  out  of  the  present  system;  in  the  three 
that  follow  we  outline  the  political  and  legal  machinery  which 
very  likely  will  be  found  necessary  to  the  working  of  that  new 
order  ;  in  chapters  X,  XI  and  XII,  we  point  out  the  principal 
social  efiects  which  may  be  expected  to  follow  from  it,  and  ia 
the  last  chapter  we  consider  how  the  revolution — the  change — 
is  likely  to  be  accomplished  in  our  country  and  England. 

We  believe  it  is  time  that  a  work,  containing  all  the  loading 
tenets  of  Socialism  in  a  concise,  consecutive  form  should  be 
presented  in  the  English  language— in  the  language  of  the 
two  countries  where  the  social,  and  specially  the  industrial 
conditions,  are  ripening  quicker  than  anywhere  else.  Such 
a  work,  in  fact,  exists  nowhere.  Whenever  any  one  now 
wishes  to  inform  himself  on  the  subject  lie  has  to  wade  through 
innumerable  books  and  pamphlets,  mostly  German.  That  such  a 
candid  man  as  JoIdi  S.  Mill,  who  had  a  truly  Socialist  heart,  did 
not  become  a  Socialist  we  attribute  to  this  fragmentary  shnpe 
of  Sotjialist  thought,  and  that  in  a  tongue  unknown  to  him  ;  tor 
his  •"  Chapters  on  Socialism."  published  after  his  death,  show 
that  he  was  familiar  only  with  French  speculations,  of  a  time 
when  Soci'ilisrii  was  yet  in  its  Infancy.  AVe  can  dismiss  nearly 
all  that  thus  fiir  has  been  written  in  our  language  by  Socialists 
oo  the  subject  with  the  remark  that  it  is  not  exactly  adapted 


10  INTRODUCTORY. 

to  people  of  jiidgniont  and  cuUnre.  TYe  thinlv  that  all  Amer- 
icans who  simply  want  to  be  well-informed  ought  to  make 
themselves  acquainted  with  this  new  philosophy — and  Social- 
ism is  notliing  less  than  that — which  is  believed  in  by  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  our  feUow-men  with  a  fervor  equalling 
ihe  enthusiasm  of  the  early  Christians.  We  think  they  will 
make  themselves  a(;quaintcd  with  it.  as  soon  as  it  is  presented 
to  them  in  readable  English,  and  applied  to  American  phe- 
nomena and  American  conditions  by  a  writer  possessing  the 
American  bias  for  the  practical.  Such  Socialism,  whether 
true  or  false,  whether  destined  to  be  successful  or  unsuc- 
cessful,  is  a  matter  that  concerns  you  personally. 

But  if  the  writer  of  this  work  did  not  hope  to  accomplish 
something  beyond  giving  some,  or  even  many,  Americans 
more  correct  notions  of  the  aims  of  Socialists  than  those  they 
have,  it  would  never  have  been  written.  We  have  a  deeper 
purpose,  far  nearer  our  heart.  Most  reflective  minds,  if  they 
do  not  go  the  whole  length  of  the  one  who  speaks  in  the  dia- 
logue with  which  we  started,  do  admitthat  weareatthe  brink 
of  an  extraordinary  change  ;  that  a  crisis  of  some  sort  is  im- 
pending, no  matter  if  it  is  likely  to  burst  out  now  or  in  ten  or 
fifty  years  from  now.  We  then  say  that  the  only  thing  that 
can  save  us  and  our  children  from  horrors,  ten-fold  worse 
than  those  of  the  French  Revolution,  that  can  save  us  from 
the  infliction  of  such  a  scourge  as  Napoleon,  will  be  the  activ- 
ity of  a  minority,  acting  as  the  brains  of  the  llevolution.  For 
while  there  will  be  a  revolution,  it  need  not  necessarily  be  one 
marked  by  blood.  "We  hope  it  will  not  be  such  a  one  :  a  rev- 
olution by  violence  is  to  Society  what  a  hurricane  is  to  a  ship 
struggling  on  the  stormy  ocean  ;  itisonly  by  herculean  eftbrts 
that  we  shall  succeed  in  avoiding  the  ro(;ks  and  bring  it 
Into  the  secure  haven,  and  even  then  we  shall  be  bnt  at  the 
threshold  of  our  task. 

But.  then,  we  must  flrst  have  in  our  country  this  minority ;  a 
vigorous  minority,  even  if  but  a  small  one  ;  a  minorit}'  of  in- 
telligent and  energet.ic  American  men  and  women  ;  a  minor- 
ity with  sound  convictions  as  to  what  the  crisis  means  and 


INTRODUCTORY.  11 

how  It  may  be  made  to  redound  to  the  welfare  of  the  whole 
of  Society  and  with  the  courage  of  their  convictions.  Such 
a  minority  will  be  indispensable  to  render  tlie  revolution  a  bless- 
ing, whether  it  comes  peaceably  or  forcibly.  Not  that  this 
minority  is  to  make  the  coming  devolution — an  hidividual,  a 
clique,  a  majority  even  can  as  little  make  a  revolution  as  the 
fly  makes  the  carriage  wheel  roll ;  the  Revolution  makes  it- 
self or  '•  grows  itself;  " —  but  this  minority  is  to  prepare  for  it 
and,  when  the  decisive  moment  has  arrived,  act  on  the  mass- 
es, as  the  power  acts  on  the  lever.  To  reach  and  possibly 
win  this  minority — however  small — this  book  has  mainly  been 
written. 

We  shall,  for  that  purpose,  address  ourselves  to  the  reflec- 
tive minds  of  all  classes,  rich  as  well  as  poor,  professional  as 
well  as  working  men — and,  indeed,  many,  very  majjy,  literary 
men  and  women,  very  many  lawyers,  very  many  physicians 
and  teachers  are  just  as  much  in  need  of  this  Coming  Eevolu- 
tion  as  most  working  men.  '  But  we  shall  assume,  reader,  that 
you  are  not  one  of  those  who  are  personally  interested  in  the 
maintenance  of  the  present  Social  Order,  or  rather  Social  An- 
archy Sov  then  it  is  hopeless  to  try  to  win  you  over.  Very 
likely  you  will  deem  it  a  difficult  feat  to  win  you  over,  to  turn 
you  into  a  Socialist — All  we  ask  of  you  is  with  us  to  view  fa- 
miliar facts  of'  life  from  a  standpoint,  very  difl'erent  from  the 
one  you  have  hitherto  beei  occupying,  to  look  at  them  in  oth- 
er lights  and  shades,  and  then  await  the  resulc.  A  man  is 
never  the  same  any  more  after  he  has  once  got  a  new  impres- 
sion. Mucli  tliat  we  are  going  to  say  cannot  but  shock  your 
preconceived  ideas,  but  from  St.  Paul  down  many  have  been 
indigr.an''  at  first  hearing  what  afterwards  became  their  most 
cherished  convictions.  We  shall  discard  all  common-places  and 
phrases  and  throughout  be  mindful  ot  Samuel  Johnson's  ad- 
monition :    "  Let  us  empty  our  minds  of  cant,  gentlemen  I  ** 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMMONWEALTH. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM. 


''  The  worldng  class  is  the  only  class  which  is  not  a  class. 
It  is  the  nation.  Tt  represents,  so  to  spoak.  the  body  as  a 
wiiole,  of  w  hich  the  otlier  classes  only  represent  special  or- 
gans. These  or^j^ans,  no  donbt,  have  great  and  indispensable 
functions,  bnt  for  most  ])nii)OPe'=  of  government  the  State 
consiiJts  of  the  vast  laboring  majoritj''.  Its  welfare  depends 
on  what  their  lives  are  like."  — Frederic  Harrison. 

"They  (Political  Economists)  are  men  of  only  one  idea — 
"Wealth,  how  to  })rocnre  and  increase  it.  'J'heir  rules  seemed 
infallibly  certain  to  that  sn})r(Mne  end.  What  did  it  signify 
that  a  great  ])art  of  mankind  was  made  nioanwhile  even 
more  wretched  than  before,  provided  wealth  on  the  whole 
increased?" — Catholic  Quarterly  Review.,  Jan.  1880. 

''That  the  masses  of  men  are  robbed  of  their  fair  earnings 
— that  they  Iiave  to  work  much  harder  than  thej'-  ought  to 
work  for  a  very  much  poorer  living  than  they  ought  to  get, 
is  to  my  mind  clear." — Henry  George, 


THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM. 


13 


We  Phall  commonoe  with  an  object  lesson  ;  it  will  consist  chief- 
ly oftigures.  aiul  tignres  are  tiresome  things; — but  the  lesson 
will  be  a  short  one.  Here  are  four  diagrams,  —  ''cakes"  let  us 
call  them : 


iS6o. 


1850. 


.^ 

Wages  for 
957,000 

-•  -3 

"  hands." 

n    c 
3    J« 

$  437,000,000. 


Wages  foi 

1,300.000 
"  hands." 


Surplus, 
53  per  cent. 


$  805,000,000, 


1870. 


Wages  for 

3,000,000 

"hands." 

Surplus, 
53  per  cent. 

1,310,000,000. 

1880. 


Wages  for 

Surplus, 

3,739,000 

48  1-3  per  cent. 

"hands" 

$  1,834,000,000. 

These  ""cakes  "  represent  the  net  produce  of  all  maimfacturin* 


14  THE   PROFIT    SYSTEM. 

Industries  of  the  United  States  for  the  respective  years; 
mark!  not  the  gross  vakie  of  the  products  on  leaving  the  fac- 
tories, but  only  that  value  which  has  been  given  to  them  in 
the  factories  minus  the  wear  and  tear  of  machinery.  That  is 
to  say,  we  have  arrived  at  the  above  figures  by  first  adding 
the  value  of  the  raw  materials  and  the  depreciation  of  all  ma- 
cliiuery,  implements  and  buildings  together,  and  then  deduct- 
ing that  sum  from  the  value  of  the  finished  products.  The 
value  of  th^  raw-materials  used,  and  the  gross  value  we  have 
gathered  from  the  respective  U.  S.  Census  Reports,  but  for  the 
estimate  of  the  wear  and  tear  of  machinery  &c  there  are  ab- 
solutely no  data  anywhere  to  be  had.  We  have  taken  five  per 
cent,  of  all  the  capital  invested  in  all  manufactures  in  the  re- 
spective years  as  probably  a  fair  estimate  of  such  wear  and 
tear,  as  but  a  small  part  of  all  capital  is  invested  in  machinery 
and  implements,  where  most  of  the  wear  and  tear  occurs.  Sup- 
posing that  we  are  somewhat  out  of  the  way  on  one  side  or 
the  other  in  this  guess,  it  will  not  materially  affect  the  conclu- 
sions of  this  chapter. 

Observe,  first,  that  these  ""  cakes"  grow  at  an  even  and  a 
very  great  rate ; 

The  cake  of  1850  has  a  value  of   $  437  million  dollars  ; 
that  of  1860     ''     "    *•      *'         805      *'  " 

that  of  1870  (reduced  to  gold)  1310      *'  " 

that  of  1880   a  value  of  1834       **  " 

Observe,  next,  that  these  •*  cakes  "  are  divided  by  a  vertical 
line  into  two  very  nearly  equal  portions.  That  to  the  left  was 
paid  to  the  workers  in  the  form  of  wages;  that  totheright  we 
shall,  for  the  time  being,  call  the  '•''  Surplus." 

Note,  also. — for  we  do  not  want  to  make  facts,  but  simply 
to  declare  and  explain  them — that  the  portion:  wages,  in- 
creases bcth  absolutely  and  relatively  in  proportion  to  th€ 
number  of  workers : 

The  average  wage  in  1850  was  248  dollars ; 

"  U  ,.  .4      IgQQ        U     292  '' 

"  "-  "       ^-    1870      "   310    (gold.) 

u  41  u       »i     IgSo      "  346        ** 

Tbe  portion :  surplus  grows  at  a  great  rate : 


THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM.  15 

In  1850  it  amounted  to  200  million  dollars; 
*'    1860  it  was  426      '•  '' 

"    1870  it  was  690      ^'       (gold.) 

'^    1880  it  rose  to  886       ''  •' 

The    average  "  surplus,"  that  is,  when  divided  by  the  num- 
ber of  establishments,  was  as  follows : 
In  1850  it  was      $1,500. 
''  1860  •'    ''  3,000. 

"  1870  it  fell  to    2,736,  because  the   number  of  establish- 
ments had  nearly  doubled. 

In  1880  it  rose  to  3,490.  the  number  of  establishments  being 
nearly  the  same  as  in  1870. 

Here  ends  the  lesson.  It  was  all  figures ;  bnt  we  should  say  that 
to  a  reflective  mind  these  figures  are  not  dumb,  but  speaking. 

The  central  point  of  interest  seems  to  us  to  be  this  ''surplus." 
How  does  this  surplus  originate  9  For  to  know  what  a  thing 
is,  we  must  know  the  process  of  its  origin.  How  come  tliese 
cakes — the  net  results  of  our  indnstrial  production — to  be  di- 
vided that  way?  In  order  to  answer  these  questions  we  shall 
have  to  dissect  the  system  of  productioii  which  now  prevails. 

Take  a  number  of  moneyed  men  who  agree  to  invest  their 
superfluities  in  some  industrial  enterprise.  They  come  togeth- 
er, form  themselves  into  a  joint-stock  comnany  and  elect  of- 
ficers ;  such  companies,  in  fact,  now  own  and  operate  some  of 
our  largest  establishments,  and  the  tendency  is  that  all  indus- 
tries of  any  consequence  in  time  will  be  carried  on  by  them. 
Suppose  then  our  moneyed  men  engaged  in  the  cotton,  or  wool- 
en, or  iron  and  steel  industry;  either  one  of  these  will 
serve  our  purpose  equally  well,  as  the  *  surplus  '  was  in  1880 
about  the  same  in  proportion  in  all  of  them.  Supx^ose  they 
engage  in  the  making  of  cotton  cloth.  None  of  these  men  need 
have  any  knowledge  wiiatever  of  the  work  to  be  done,  and  as 
a  matter  of  fact  the  stockholders  of  existing  joint-stock  com- 
panies have  no  such  knowledge.  They  need  not  know  anj^- 
thing,  indeed,  except  to  add  and  divide — this  is  not  added  im- 
pertinently, but  simply  to  emphasize  a  fact  most  pertinent  to 
our  subject.    All  that  they  need  do  is  to  hire  a  manager  at  a 


16  THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM. 

Stated  salary  and  place  their  funds  at  his  disposal. 

This  manager  then  rents  a  factory — a  cotton-''  mill " — or  has 
one  built;  goes  then  into  the  market  and  buys  spindles,  bales 
of  cotton,  and  other  machinery  and  raw  materials.  All  that 
low  is  wanting  is  Labor;  but  that  is  also  to  be  found  in  the 
market  — plenty  of  it.  The  manager  buys  as  much  as  he  wants 
of  it.  Note,  however,  here  a  difference.  The  machinery  and 
raw  material  he  has  to  pay  for  on,  or  a  short  time  after,  de- 
livery ;  not  quite  so  with  Labor.  With  that  a  contract  is  made 
to  employ  it  for  a  week  or  a  month  at  an  agreed  price,  and  then 
to  pay  for  it  after  having  used  it. 

All  these  wares  —  machinery,  cotton  and  Labor  —  are 
now  takeii  to  the  cotton  mill,  where  our  men  w  ith  money  may, 
if  they  think  fit,  look  on  while  Labor  spins  and  weaves  the 
cotton  into  cloth,  using  up  in  that  process  a  certain  small  por- 
tion of  the  machinery  and  factory.  Everybody  now  knows, 
that  this  cloth  is  not  made  for  the  personal  use  of  these  mon- 
eyed men  or  their  families — and  we  shall  see  in  another  chap- 
ter that  this  fact  is  a  truly  distinguishing  mark  ol  the  era  we 
are  living  in — but  that  it  is  manufactured  wholly  for  other  peo- 
ple whom  these  men  never  saw  or  heard  of.  This  cloth  is 
made  for  the  express  purpose  of  being  taken  into  and  disposed 
of  in  the  market  of  the  world.  For  there,  all  wares,  from 
guano  to  gold,  from  rags  to  silk,  have  one  quality  in  com- 
mon ;  that  of  possessing  value. 

Now,  please  mark  that  nothing  can  so  effectually  kill  our 
cause  as  the  successful  impeachment  of  the  answer  we  shall 
give  to  the  question  :  What  is  value?  or  the  deductions  we 
sliall  draw  from  it.  Our  explanation  of  what  this  '"surplus"  is 
and  what  Capital  is,  hinges  on  this  question,  which  is,  indeed, 
'•  Vidce  mere'''' — the  *Mnotheridea"  of  Socialism.  We  shall, there- 
fore, suspend  our  sketch  of  the  present  mode  of  production, 
in  order  first  to  answer  it. 

But  mark  n«;ain,  our  exposition  of  ''value"  is  none  other 
than  that  of  David  Jkicardo.  Socialists  regard  Kicardo  as  tlie 
last  political  economist  v/ho  made  any  substantial  addition  to 
the  science  ;  the  one  who,  in  regard  to  value  and  wages,  ad- 
vanced it  to  its  highest  plane.     And  it  was  only  alter  the  sup- 


THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM,  17 

porters  of  the  present  social  order  found  out.  what  use  could 
be  made  of  his  teachings,  that  Bastiat  and  his  disciples  came 
to  their  succor  and  tried  to  impugn  these  teachings.  We  build 
on  IMcardo  as  our  foundation. 

U'o  the  question  then.  Bj"^  "' value ''  we  mean  vahie  in  ex- 
change; we  do  not  mean  value  in  use.  or  utility,  or,  what 
seems  to  us  a  more  luminous  name,  and  what  Locke  called  it: 
worth.  The  worth  or  utility  of  shoes  is  their  capacity  to  i^ro- 
tect  the  feet;  their  vaUie  is  what  they  will  fetch  in  the  mar- 
ket. Their  vahie  is  their  relation  to  other  wares,  in  some  way 
or  other;  is  another  name  for  equivalence. 

But  relation  in  what  way?  Not  relation  of  worths.  Worth, 
or  utility,  is  undoubtedly  presupposed,  but  it  does  not  deter- 
mine the  vahie.  That  will  be  seen  from  the  following  illus- 
trations : 

The  reason  why  a  man  wants  to  purchase  a  pair  of 
shoes,  is  that  he  needs  them,  that  they  are  useful,  that 
they  possess  "•  worth"  to  him.  But  their  usefulness 
is  not  at  all  the  reason  why  he  paj's  ,f2.00  for  them 
He  does  not  pay  twenty  times  as  much  for  tlieni  as  for  a  ten 
cent  loaf  of  bread,  because  they  are  twenty  times  as  useful  to 
him.  Why  not  ?  Because  the  two  "  worths"  or  two  useful- 
nesses are  just  as  incomj>aral)le  as  a  pound  of  butter  and  a 
peck  of  apples  would  be.  Agahi,  a  loaf  of  bread  is  "worth" 
infinitely  more  to  a  man  who  hus  not  eaten  anything  for  forty- 
eight  hours  than  to  one  who  Just  comes  from  a  hearty  dinner; 
j'et  the  former  can  buy  tiie  loaf  just  as  cheaply  as  the  latter. 
Value,  then,  is  no  relation  of  *•  wortiis."  of  usefulnesses. 

Nor  h:is  money  anything  to  do  with  determining  values. 
Wares  would  have  value,  the  same  as  the\'  have  now,  if  all 
money  of  all  kinds  were  suddenly  annihilated.  In  order  to 
eliminate  that  disturbing  factor:  money,  w^e  shall  suppose  an 
exchange  of  goods  for  goods — pure  barter. 

Assume,  then,  a  shoemaker  to  exchange  one  pair  of  boots 
for  a  coat,  another  similar  pair  for  a  table,  a  third  pair  for  one 
hundred  pounds  of  bread,  a  fourth  pair  for  forty  bushels  of 
coal,  and  a  fifth  pah-  for  a  book.  All  these  articles  are  said  to 
be  equal  in  value. 


18  THE    riiOFIT    SYSTEM. 

But  equality  presupposes  comparison.  We  only  compare 
sueli  articles  with  each  other  that  are  similar.  In  what  re- 
spect, then,  are  the  above  articles  similar,  except  that  of  be- 
ing useful,  which  we  saw  was  no  point  ot  comparison? 
They  are  dissimilar  in  regard  to  the  material,  out  of  which 
they  are  made  and  the  purposes  for  which  they  are  made. 
They  are,  oil  the  other  hand,  similar  in  this  respect  that 
they  haA'^e  been  produced  by  human  labor,  working 
on  natural  products,  which,  again,  have  been  won  by  hu- 
man labor.  Th;'y  have,  then,  this  property  in  common,  that 
they  have  sprung  from  Nature,  and  contain  in  them  a  certain 
amount  of  liuman  labor.  Labor  is  their  father  and  Nature  is 
their  mother. 

Nature,  liowever.  performs  her  work  gratuitously.  It  must, 
then,  be  human  labor  which  gives  these  various  articles  their 
value. 

That  is,  also,  the  teaching  of  Ricardo.  He  lays  it  down  as 
a  fundamental  principle,  that  the  exchange  values  of  wares 
the  supply  of  which  may  be  indefinitely  increased,  (as  is  the 
case  with  these  articles  we  enumerated)  depend,  exclusively, 
on  the  quantities  of  labor,  necessarily  required  to  produce  them 
and  bring  them  to  market,  in  all  states  of  society.  In  an- 
other place  he  says:  "  In  all  cases,  wares  rise  in  value,  be- 
cause more  labor  is  expended." 

These  various  articles,  however,  have  not  only  vnlue;  they 
were  supposed  to  have  equal  value,  consequently  they  must 
contain  an  equal  amount  of  human  labor.    And  so  it  is. 

These  amounts  are  first  measured  by  the  time  devoted  to  pro- 
duce these  articles.  Thus,  it  is  easy  enough  to  say,  how  much 
bakenng  labor  is  coniained  in  the  bread;  how  much  tailoring 
labor  in  the  coat  tfec. 

These  various  labors,  however,  are  very  different  in  kind, 
you  will  say.  Undoubtedly.  But  the  difference  consists  simply 
in  being  more  or  less  comi)licated.  It  takes,  simply,  more 
time  to  learn  the  one  than  the  other.  The  most  complicated 
kind  of  work  can  always  be  reduced  to  ordinary  unskilled  la- 
bor, may  always  be  considered  as  nuiltiplied  common  labor. 
Thus  digging  is  easier  to  learn  than  type  setting.   There  is  con- 


THE   PKOFIT    SYSTEM,  19 

tallied  in  every  hour's  work  of  the  carpenter  a  part  of  the  time 
he  devoted  to  l^ariiin^^  hi<  trade.  This  is  still  more  apjjarent 
iu  the  literal  y  labor  contained  in  a  book.  Years  ma}  be  requi- 
Bite  for  tlie  preliminary  work,  months  or  even  years  maj'  have 
to  be  devoted  to  special  studies,  while  the  mere  writing  of  tlio 
manuscript  may  take  but  a  few  months.  One  hour  of  writing 
may  thus,  be  equivalent  to  twelve,  or  many  more,  hours  of 
common  labor. 

In  this  coniitiction  Ricardo  very  pertinently  remarks  ''I  am  not 
inattentive  to  the  difficulty  of  comparing  one  hour's  labor  in 
one  employment  with  the  same  duration  of  labor  in  another. 
But  the  estimation  of  different  qualities  of  Labor  comes  soon 
to  be  adjusted  in  the  market  with  suincient  precision  for  all 
practical  purposes  " 

But  we  are  not  yet  ready  to  define  what  Value  is.  Suppose 
one  man  required  twice  as  much  time  to  make  a  pair  of  boots 
as  Is  usually  required,  and  suppose  he  should  then  want  from 
the  tailor  two  coats  in  exchange,  instead  of  one,  he  probably 
would  gel  some  such  answer  as  this :  '•  I  don't  care  how  long 
time  it  takes  you  to  make  such  a  pair  of  boots.  I  know,  that 
on  an  average,  an  average  shoemaker  can  make  them  in  half 
that  time,  and  therefore  your  labor  is  of  no  more  value." 
Value  is  not  then  determined  by  the  time  which  this  or  that 
worker  may  need. 

Again.  Suppose  tomoiTOw  a  machine  is  invented  and  geuer- 
ally  introduced  which  will  make  t  vo  pair  of  boots  in  the  s  ime 
time  that  now  is  required  for  one  pair  Then  the  Value  will 
be  reduced  one-half. 

We.  then,  define  Value  as :  the  quantitij  of  common   human 
labor ^  measured  by  time^  which  on  an  averaqe  is  requisite,    hij  the 
implements  generally  used,  to  produce  a  giitn  commodity. 

We  should  now  go  on  with  our  illustration  and  state  the  de- 
duction which  Socialists  draw  from  the  definition  just  given, 
were  it  not  for  some  misunderstandings  that  veiy  likely  al- 
ready have  ariseii  in  many  a  reader's  mind. 

Thus,  one.  may  object:  Suppose  I  find  a  diamond  in  the 
highway.  Its  value  is,  certainly,  far  above  the  trouble  of  pick- 
ing it  up.    Does  not  this  show  that  Bastiat's  definition  of  Val- 


20  THE    TROFIT    SYSTEM. 

ne:  that  its  measure  is  '■'•  the  service  done  to  tlie  buyer,  in  sav- 
ing hiiJi  a  certain  amount  of  ctTort,"'  is  the  more  correct 
one.  We  answer:  Teopk;  are  not  in  the  liabit  of  finding  dia- 
monds in  the  hiiihways.  If  tliey  wei'c.  diamonds  wonhl  soon 
be  as  cheap  as  pebbh's.  Diamonds  will  come  to  the  tinder  dear 
enough,  if  he  were  to  seek  them  in  Hindostan  or  Brazil,  where 
they  are  usually  found.  Kemember  that  the  average  amount 
of  labor  is  a  part  of  our  definition. 

A  word  more  in  regard  to  that  theory  of  *•'  service,"  which 
so  many  reformers  in  our  country  have  got  into  their  heads 
without  knowing  to  whom  they  owe  it.  Bastiat  it  was  who 
invented  that  term  in  order  to  get  over  the  ai)parent  mischief 
Ricardo's  theory  worked;  who  expressly  selected  it  because 
its  meaning  was  equivocal.  Its  efficacy  lies  entirely  in  the  shift- 
ing uses  of  an  ambiguous  term.  Bastiat's  definition  really 
an)Ounts  to  saying,  that  the  value  of  a  railroad-ticket  from 
Boston  to  Worcester  is  measured  hy  the  time,  trouble  and  ex- 
pense which  1  may  "save"  in  not  walking  or  driving  that  dis- 
tance! Why,  our  progress  depends  on  exactly  the  reverse! 
On  this,  that  values  of  articlesbecome  constantly  less  and  less  in 
proportion  to  the  trouble  I  should  have  to  undergo  in  produc- 
ing them  by  my  own  efforts  I  So  that,  finally,  values  and  troub- 
les of  mine  bear  no  relation  at  all  to  each  other. 

Agidn,  we  shall,  of  course,  be  charged  with  having  disre- 
garded the  law  of  Demand  and  Supply.  Aiid  yet.  we  distinct- 
ly mentioned,  that  we.  so  far,  only  spoke  of  articles  that  may 
be  indefinitely  increased.  Wares,  that  cannot  be  thus  increased, 
like  rare  pictures  and  wines,  and  other  wares  in  times  of  scarci- 
ty, have  what  is  called,  a  '^  monopoly  value,"  that  is,  their  val- 
ue is  not  measured  by  the  labor  contained — crystalizod — in  theii> 
at  all,  but  by  Demand  and  Supply,  exclusively.  And  even 
with  regard  to  wares  that  may  be  indefinitely  increased  (the 
vast  majority  of  all  wares)  we,  with  iricardo,  do  not  deny 
that  '-there  are  accidental  and  temporary  deviations  of  the 
actual  market  from  their  primary,  and  natural  price." 

That  which  we  lay  stress  upon  is,  that  the  labor  expended 
on  wares  measures,  and  js,  their  primary  and  natural  value. 
Labor  expended  constitutes,  so  to  speak,  their /erei  value.  Do- 


THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM.  21 

niana  and  Supply  have,  as  to  those  wares,  simply  the  effect  of 
niiikiiig  their  price  (that  is.  tlieir  value  expressed  in  money — 
ill  gold  and  silver)  vibrate,  now  a  little  above,  now  a  little  be- 
low that  level  value  of  theirs;  exactly  as  the  wind  raises  and 
depresses  the  waves  in  lespect  to  the  level  of  the  sea. 

We  claim,  then  : — First,  in  the  words  of  Ricardo  :  ''Nature 
by  the  aid  of  machinery  adds  to  utilities  (to  ••'  Worths'")  by 
making  society  richer;  but  the  assistance  which  it  affords, 
adds  nothing  to  Values,  but  always  makes  the  latter  fall." 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  that  Human  Labor  and  Scarcity  create 
all  Values.  But  since  it  is  evident,  that  Scarcity  cannot  cre- 
ate anything  real,  we  must  conclude  that  the  Values  which  are 
due  to  it,  are  unreal  ones ;  and  that  it  is  human  Labor  alone 
that  creates  all  real  values.  [This  of  course,  does  not  imply,  that 
there  is  not  much  Labor  which  does  not  create  any  Values  at 
all.]  So  it  is  not  only  now,  but  so  it  has  always  been.  So  it 
will  always  be  under  any  industrial  system. 

We  can  now  return  to  our  sketch.    We  left  the  manager  hav- 
ing taken  the  cotton  cloth  into  the  world's  market    for    sale. 
Suppose  one  hundred  hours  of  common  labor  (that  is,  the  un- 
skilled  labor  to  which,  as  we  have  seen,  all  skilled  labor  can 
be  ultimately  reduced)  necessary,  under  the  prevailing  mode 
of  production,  to  make  this  cloth,  and  another  hundred  hours 
of  common  labor  requisite  to  produce  the  bales  of  cotton  and 
that  part  of  the  machinery  which  has  been  used  up,  then  the 
value  of  the  finished  cotton  cloth  is  two   hundred   hours  of 
common  labor.    That  is.  they  will  exchange  with  that  amount 
of  labor  crystallized  in  any  other  ware.     Suppose  they  are  ex- 
changed   (disregarding  for  the  moment  the  oscillating  influ- 
ence of  Demand  and  Supply)  for  an  amount  of  gold,  embody 
Ing  two  hundred  hoin-s  of  common  labor.     That  gold  is  thcL 
taken  to  the  office  of  our  company. 

But,  since  equal  amounts  of  labor  are  exchanged,  why  dr 
these  moneyed. men  engage  in  this  operation?  Do  they  do  it 
for  fun? 

Not  a  bit  of  it.  We  have  now  arrived  at  the  Social- 
ist deductiou  which  is  drawn  from  our  definition  of  value, 


22  THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM. 

and  which  made  it  so  important,  that  it  should  be  thoroughly 
understood.  Our  moneyed  men  first  deduct  from  that  heap 
of  gold  lying  before  them  th<ir  outlay  for  raw  materials  and 
the  wear  and  tear  of  machinery.  The  balance— the  *' cake  •* 
in  fact — they  divide  into  two.  let  us  say,  equal  portions.  The 
one  portion  they  give  to  Labor,  and  the  other — ? 

liemember  that  we  stated,  that  there  is  plenty  of  labor  in 
the  market.'  Labor  now-a-days  is  aware.  Being  a  ware  it 
possesses  both  Worth  and  Value.  Its  ico7'«/i  is  its  ability  tc 
produce  our '' cakes-' — Values.  Labor  creates  these.  And  its 
(labor's)  Value  is  precisely  what  the  value  of  other  wares  is: 
the  amount  of  common  human  labor^  necesmry  to  '"raise  "  and 
maintain  a  laborer^  in  the  manner  customary  at  a  given  time 
and  in  a  given  country. 

Labor  as  Ricardo  says,  "has  its  natural  value — depending 
on  the  price  of  necessaries —  and  its  market  price,"  vibratijig 
above  and  below  the  former.  The  hiborer,  in  other  words, 
must  sell  his  labor  for  wages,  now  a  little  above,  now  a  little 
below  what  it  costs  him  to  live  and  bring  up  his  family. 

That  which  we  have  hitherto  called  -'the  surplus."  then 
arises,  because  the  laborer  gets  only  about  half  of  what  he 
produces.  And  what  becomes  of  it?  Fancy  these  monej-cd 
men  reasoning  to  themselves :  '•  True,  this  sui-plus  is  the  ])rod- 
uct  of  our  Labor,  but  didn't  we  agree  to  pay  a  stated  price  for 
that;  and  haven't  we  paid  it?  True,  also,  that  we  have  done 
nothing  but  going  through  the  effort  of  hii-lng  our  manager 
and  looking  on.  Never  mind!  ice  ca// tYpro/i«."  That  name 
they  give  it  and  put  it  into  their  pockets. 

From  this  point  we  have  no  more  use  for  the  vague  word 
*'  Surplus '* ;  we  are  now  entitled  to  call  it  by  the  approjuiate 
name:  Fleecings.  If  there  was  an  English  word  for  the 
process  of  abstracting  honey  from  the  bees,  we  should  jnefer 
tiiat,  for  the  process  of  pocketing  the  proceeds  of  Labor  is  also 
a  stealthy  one.  Let  it,  however  be  distinctly  understood  that 
in  adopting  this  word  •'  fleecings"  we  have  not  the  remotest 
Idea  of  reflecting  upon  ;?^rso».9;  we  use  it,  and  shall  use  it 
rei)eatedly,  to  condemn  as  impressively  as  possible  the  system 
which  allows  and  sometimes  compels  one  class  of  men  virtu- 


THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM. 


23 


ally  to  say  to  another  class  :  ''If  you  will  work  five  hours  a 
day  for  us  gratuitously,  we  will  enable  you  to  work  the  other 
five  hours  for  yourselves  *' — that  is,  to  condemn  the  Profit  Sys- 
tem^ the  Wage-System.  Observe  that  we  said  ''  one  class 
of  men."  For,  while  in  our  illustration  we  assumed  that  the 
owners  of  the  cotton  mill  had  all  the  means,  needed  for  their 
enterprise,  we  know  that  in  many  cases  employers  have  to  rent 
land  on  which  to  build  their  factories  and  to  borrow  money  to 
defray  their  expenses.  Such  employers,  of  course,  do  not  put 
all  the  fleecings  into  their  own  pockets,  but  have  to  divide  with 
land  owners,  bankers  and  other  '■•gentlemen  at  large."  But 
the  fact  is — and  on  that  it  is  we  lay  stress — that  the  workers 
receive  only  about  half  of  what  they  produce,  just  enough  to 
teep  up  life  and  strength  and  bring  up  a  new  generation  of 
laborers,  while  the  other  lialf  stealthily  passes  into  the  pock- 
ets of  quite  another  class  of  men. 

Now  we  can  illustrate  our  "cakes,"   so  that  they   present 
this  appearance : 

Values  for  iS6o. 


Values  for  1850. 


Wages . 

-1   ■— ' 
o    ~ 

-    "^ 


S-     "^ 


$  437,000,000. 
Product  of  Labor. 


Wag-es. 

Interest. 

Profit. 

Rent. 

$  805,000,000.    Product  of  Labor. 
Values  for  1870. 


Wages . 

Interest. 

Profit. 

Rent. 

$  1,310,000,000.    Product  ot  Labor. 


24 


THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM. 


Values  for  i8So. 


Wages. 

Interest. 

Profit. 

Rent. 

oq 


$  1,834,000,000.     Product  of  Labor. 

Here  also  is  the  place  to  note  the  answer  to  another  ques- 
tion which  the  object-lesson  may  siio:<;est :  What  is  the 
average  amount  which  the  employing  cla?s  fleeced  from  each 
worker  during  the  respective  census  years? 

In  1850  it  amounted  to    ^209.00; 
''  18G0  it  was  327.50; 

*'  1870  it  rose  to  345.00; 

''  1880  it  dropped  to  323.50. 

By  the  way,  we  ought  here  to  remark  that  it  will  not  do  to 
trust  implicitly  these  or  other  calculations  that  might  be  made 
on  figures  in  the  Census  Reports  (remember  it  is  the  employ- 
ers who  have  furnished  all  data)  ;  especially  is  a  comparison 
of  one  census  year  with  another  liable  to  be  very  misleading, 
since  one  Report  differs  materially  from  another  both  in  meth- 
od and  accuracy.  But  these  Reports  are  of  great  service, 
when  onl}^  as  here,  a  rough,  approximate  idea  of  the  reality 
is  required. 

We  then  find  that  in  1880 — a  fairly  prosperous  year,  as  all  tlic 
above  census  years  were,  compared  with  our  years  of  dis- 
tress— the  employer  paid  the  worker  on  an  average  $346  in 
Avages  and  fleeced,  on  an  average,  from  him  the  sum  of  $324. 
That,  perhaps,  to  many  docs  not  seem  extravagant. 


THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM.  25 

But  he  who  employed  10  workmen  gained  83.2-10 

'-      '^     ''  '^  25         ''  *•         8.10» 

u      u     u  u  5Q        u  u       16,200 

u      u     41  u         100        "  "      32,400 

»^      "     "  "  500        ''  "    162.000 

"      ''     ''  "        1000        "  ''    324.090. 

Three  Hundred  and  Twenty-four  Thousand  dollars  this  latter 
emploj'er  gained,  fleeced,  '-accumulated"  (mark)  !  in  one 
year  I  For  what  ?  M'hat  had  the  workers  in  return  ?  The  priv- 
ilege each  to  earn  three  hundred  and  forty-six  dollars  I  The  jjiiv- 
ilege  to  use  the  soil,  the  machinery  and  all  the  resources  of 
our  civilization,  which  this  employer  possesses  I 

It  is  on  purpose  that  we  so  far  in  our  exposition  have  avoid- 
ed to  use  the  word  "  Capital.""  Politicnl  Economists  have  sur- 
rounded this  category  with  such  a  hazy  atmosphere  that  the 
word  now  denotes  a  good  many  things.  Yet,  the  question: 
What  is  Capital?  is  of  fundamental  importance  and  relates  to 
the  whole  structure  of  our  present  Social  order.  We  want 
that  question  answered,  and  the  preceeding  pages,  indeed, 
have  beon  written  for  that  purpose.  But  we  are  not  concerned 
about  the  meaning  of  the  word — throughout  this  work  we  care 
for  the  essence  of  things  and  not  for  the  definition  of  words. 
By  "*  Capital "  Ave  mean  whtit  in  popular  speech  is  meant. 

He  is  called  a  ''capitalist"  who  possesses  wealth  which 
brings  him  an  income  icithout  any  ivoi'k  on  his  part.  True, 
luany  capitalists  do  some  work  of  one  kind  or  another,  but 
the  remuneration  they  receive  for  that  work  has  nothing  to  do 
with  their  incomes  as  ''capitalists"  ;  these  latter  are  something 
over  and  above  such  remuneration.  We,  therefore,  mean  by 
"  Capital  "  :  that  part  of  Avealth  wdiich  yields  its  possessors  an 
income  without  work.  But  we  are  just  as  willing  to  adopt  the 
defuntion  of  some  Economists,  that  Capital  is  ''  the  part  of 
wealth  which  is  eni\-)loyed  pi-oductively  with  a  vieio  to  profit  by 
sale  of  the  produce."  for  it  is  only  by  being  thus  employed, 
that  it  fields  an  income. 

The  question,  then,  which  we  are  now  intent  upon  finding 
an  answer  to  is :    What  is  the  nature,  the  essence  of  that  which 


26  THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM. 

we  have  agreed  to  call  '•  Capital "?  We  want  to  laiow  it,  and 
therefore  must  learn  tlie  process  ot  its  origin.  That  is  a  com- 
paratively easy  tiling*  to  us  who  already  know  the  origin  of 
the  ''  Suri)lus."  Siinpl}^  observe  what  our  moneyed  men.  the 
operatoi-s  of  tlie  cotton  mill,  are  doing.  Tliey  add  their  llee- 
cings  to  what  wea'th  they  had  already,  and  make  that  increased 
wealth  pass  through  sucJi  another  o])eratioii  as  we  already 
liave  described.  The  oftener  they  do  that  and  the  more  op- 
eratives they  emplov,  the  more  surplus  labor  their  wealth  ab- 
sorbs. Noio  loe  have  '•  Capital"'  and  ''"Capitalists.'"  It  is 
these  fleecings  which,  absorbed  by  wealth,  turns  it  into  •'  Cap- 
ital," and  the  pocketing  these  fleecings  turns  wealthy  men  in- 
to ••  capitalists.'' 

Note,  '"  Sui-plus'"  is  the  same  as  "•  fleecings,"  is  the  difference 
hhLween  the  price  of  Labor  and  the  price  of  Labor  s  produce.,  is 
the  latter  minus  ( — )  the  former. 

Capital  is  the  original  little  amount  of  wealth  with  which  (.ur 
employers  stait — which  they  may  and  may  not  liave  earned — 
plus  (+)  the  sum  of  surplus  values;  is  accumulated  fleecings — 
accumulated  withheld  wages. 

Therein  consists,  really,  the  so-called  "productivity"  of 
Capital:  in  possessing  the  spongy  capacity  of  steadily  going 
on  absorbing  surplus  labor.  This  capacity  distinguishes  it 
from  all  other  wealth  (which  other  wealth  the  old  Economists 
called,  very  hapi^iiy  Tlevcnue.)  Far  be  it  from  us  to  deny  the 
inval'iable  assistance  which  Capital  renders  to  Labor.  Dut 
Capital  produces  no  Values  whatever;  it  enables  Labor  to  be 
immensrly  more  productive,  that  is  all. 

We  have  now  reached  the  very  core,  the  grand  secret  of  the 
present  mode  of  production.  This  fact,  that  such  a  thing  as 
'*  Capital"  exists,  that  it  is  acquired  and  increases,  legiti- 
mately, by  fleecing  those  in  its  employ  by  the  wage-system — 
a  f;ict,  unknown  to  all  former  periods — is  the  one  characteris- 
tic mark  of  this  era;  wherefore  it  may  with  propriety  be  di.'S- 
ignated :  the  Capitalist  era. 

We  took  our  illustration  from  the  manufacturing  industries. 
The  pame  lesson  however,  might  have  been  equally  well  drawn 
from  agriculture,  to  the  extent  that  the  cultivator  of  the  farm 


THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM.  27 

or  plantation  employs  wagc-laboiers.  And  we  ariive  at  the 
same  results,  if  we  direct  our  aitention  to  the  legitimate  com- 
mercial enterprises.  For  commerce, — legitimate  commerce — 
is  an  i'-idustry,  and  a  productive  industry.  Tlie  labor  of  those 
enijaged  in  causiiig  the  <loth  of  the  cotton  mills  of  New  Knjr- 
land  to  be  transported  to  tlie  heart  of  our  continent  and  in 
their  handing  it  out  in  small  pieces  to  consumers  creates  an 
additional  value  in  these  pieces  as  fully  as  the  labor  of  the 
operatives  <*reates  value.  But  here,  also,  the  prolits  which 
swell  the  fortunes  of  our  merchant  '•  i)rinces"  are  not  the 
result  of  their  labor,  but  fleecings,  exactions,  li-om  the  labor 
of  their  employees.  The  scores  of  millions  of  an  A.  T. 
Stewart  were  the  result  of  the  woik  of  thousands  of  his  fel- 
low men — fleeced  from  them  by  the  process,  ali'cady  described. 

Thus  in  all  industries,  manufiicturing,  mining,  agricultural 
and  commercial,  tlie  logitimare  fleecings  Avhich  go  to  make 
up  ^"apital,  come  out  of  the  producers — we  say  legitimate  fleec- 
ings, foUovdng  naturally,  as  they  do,  from  i  he  Mage-sys- 
tem. They  are  all  fleecers,  whether  it  be  the  capitalist  who 
joins  millions  to  his  millions,  or  the  workingman  who  brings 
his  hard  earned  earnings  to  the  bank  for  the  sake  of  the  in- 
terest. One  is  not  better  tlian  the  other.  We  do  not  blame 
either;  they  simply  conform  to  the  system  w^e  are  living  un- 
der. But  we  claim,  that  in  this  difference  between  wages  paid 
and  the  proceeds  of  Labor,  in  this  little foldlies hidden  the  f/rrm 
of  all  profit,  interest  and  rent,  of  all  pauperism  and  of  nearly  all 
modern  crime. 

Now  we  can  justly  estimate  the  accounts  which  recent  econ- 
omists have  given  us  of  Capital.  Some,  with  the  evident  de- 
sign of  drawing  their  attention  away  from  the  fleecing  process, 
Seek  to  confound  men's  minds  with  most  reckless  definitions. 
When  in  popular  speech  knowledge  and  skill  are  called  "  (ap- 
ical," every  one  is  aware  that  it  is  a  metaphor.  But  when 
economists  gravely  apply  that  term  to  such  acquisitions,  to 
the  wheel-barrow  of  the  day  laborer  and  the  wooden  horse  of 
the  wood-sawyer,  then  we  have  a  right  to  dismiss  them,  some- 
what contemptuously,  with  the  remark,  that  in  such  case  we 
are  all,  indeed  a  band  of  brother  capitalists — since  every  bod  if 


28  THE    PROFIT  SYSTEM. 

has,  at  least,  got  a  coat  to  his  back — such  as  it  is; — but  theii^ 
also,  we  have  amongst  us  a  great  many  starving  "capitalists." 
Then  the  German  economist  who  chiims  the  title  of  "  capital- 
ist" for  the  bear  who  goes  into  winter  quarters  with  lots  of 
fat  on  him  is  no  wit  after  all,  but  a  sober  ti-uth-telier. 

Others,  again,  J.  S.  Mill  among  them,  attribute  capital  to 
saving.  The  tendency  of  such  an  account  is  equally  obvious. 
It  insinuates,  that  capitalists  are  a  highly  deserving  class  of 
people,  indeed,  since  it  is  due  to  their  abnormal,  unselfish  "ab- 
stinence." that  we  have  any  Capital  at  all! 

Well,  all  that  we  have  is  either  consumable  or  inconsuma- 
ble. The  consumable  goods  like  grain  or  meat — cannot  be 
'^  saved"  for  any  length  of  time;  they  must  be  consumed,  or 
they  spoil ;  the  capitalists  therefore  onlysave  herein  the  same 
way  that  soldiers  *'  save  "  the  chickens  from  being  eaten  by 
the  enemy.  The  inconsumable  things,  like  machinerj'.  leath- 
er, coin — must  be  *•  saved"  anj-how,  since  they  cannot  be  de- 
voured. And  if  it  is  any  merit  in  capitalists,  that  they  have 
"saved"  ?,  e..  not  devoured  these,  why — then  it  must  be  ac- 
counted them  a  merit,  we  suppose,  that  they  have  "saved" 
the  very  earth,  or  the  moon,  since  they  have  not  consumed 
these  as  yet !  "  Saving,"  therefore,  is  absolutely  inappropri- 
ate here,  as  it  properly  means  the  accumulating  such  thing 
which  might  have  been  consumed. 

Much  more  to  the  point,  therefore,  is  that  other  stereotypic 
definition  of  Capital,  that  it  is  ••accwmwZaiecZ  Labor."  Yes  it 
is;  but  why  then  do  those  who  work  most  not  '*  accumulate" 
Capital?  Ah,  nothing  is  so  dangerous  as  a  truth  in  a  delusive 
dress.  This  definition  omits  to  state,  who  does  the  laboring 
and  loho  the  accumulating.  What  a  heaven-wide  difterence 
there  is  between  the  two  activities,  we  liave  already  noted. 
But  the  definition  by  that  very  omission,  though  it  looks  so  in- 
nocent, insinuates  that  Capital  at  large  is  formed  b}-  wage- 
laborers  laying  up  their  earnings,  and  that  in  that  way  they  be- 
come the  capitalists.  This  insinuation  is.  to  speak  emphati- 
cally, a  falsehood.  The  first  thousand  dollars  may  sometimes 
be  formed  in  that  way;  the  following  millions — never.  It  is 
simply  impossible.    Let  us  suppose  a  laborer  earning  $2.00  a 


THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM.  29 

day — a  good  deal  more  than  the  average  wage — that  he  works 
steadilj'  along,  that  lie  never  loses  a  day's  work,  that  he  is 
never  sick,  that  lie  lives  like  a  Chinese,  and  thus  i>  able  to  save 
up  half  of  his  wages  :  .$1 .00  a  da}'.  It  will  take  hi:n  more  than 
3U00 — Three  Thousand — years  to  accumulate  a  million  !  It  is 
this  contemptible  jugglery  with  words  that  the  iSocialist  cri- 
tique unmasks. 

Now,  furthermore,  we  can  understandone  very  curious  phe- 
nomenon, to  wit:  how  it  comes  that  the  charging  of  interests 
was,  until  not  so  very  long  ago,  considered  infamous,  while 
now  it  is  considered  the  moi^t  natural  thing  in  the  world?  A 
conscientious  man,  like  Jeremy  Uentham.  wanted  even  to  make 
it  out  to  be  one  of  the  *•  natural  rights  of  man."  The  reason 
of  the  change  must  lie  in  the  nature  of  things. 

The  common  arguments  in  favor  of  interest  are  transparent- 
ly flimsy.  They  say,  interest  is  a  reward  for  abstinence.  We 
have  already  seen  what  kind  of  abstinence  that  is, — that  of 
not  devouring  gold  coin  and  locomotives.  But  even  if  the 
capitalist  were  abstinent,  why  should  he  be  especially  re- 
warded for  it  by  an  increase?  The  apple  which  the  boy  ab- 
stains from  eating  before  going  to  bed  does  not  grow  bigger 
during  the  night— the  boy's  "  reward  *'  consists  in  his  having 
his  apple  the  next  morning.  The  German  economist.  Prof. 
Roscher.  is  honest  enough  to  admit :  •'  Kent  is  an  appropria 
tion  of  the  gifts  of  nature,  and  interest,  at  best,  a  further  Iruit 
obtained  by  f  rugalitj',  from  older  labor,  already  remunerated." 

That  other  argument^  that  interest  is  the  i^ayment  of  a  ser- 
vice rendered  by  the  lender  to  the  borrower  is  not  better,  foi 
the  service  is  reciprocal.  The  borrower  preserves  the  capital 
for  the  lender ;  no  slight  service,  since  most  capital  will  decay 
when  not  in  productive  use.  Socialists  give  the  only  satisfac- 
tory t'xplanation,  and  here  it  is: 

The  Roman  Jarists  used  to  say:  'MVhat  is  mostly  done 
governs  all  other  cases."  In  former  times  when  people  bor- 
rowed money,  .they  generally  did  it,  because  they  were  in  dis- 
tress, and  it  was.  very  naturally,  deemed  disgraceful  to  take 
advantage  of  another's  misfortunes.  The  law  and  the  Church 
therefore,   denounced  all  interest  as  usury.    But  now-a-days 


30  THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM. 

a  person  generally  borrows  money,  in  ortler  to  '•make "mon- 
ey in  the  manner  we  have  described.  The  '' tronble"  he  is 
in,  is  the  trouble  how  to  get  ricli, — and  the  capitalists  like  to 
share  that  trouble  with  him.  Interest,  now.  is  iiothihg  but  a 
part  of  the  fleecings,  nothing  but  a  fair  division — therefore 
l)roper. 

Now  W'e  can  fitly  characterize  the  "  harmony,"  the  "  part- 
nership " — compared  to  that  of  the  Siamese  Twins — between 
Capital  and  Labor,  about  which  our  comfortable  classes  talk 
so  unctuously. 

*"lf  there  be  in  this  world  a  partnership  between  men  which 
is  natural,  wise  and  useful  "  exclaimed  lately  Iloscoe  Conkling 
in  one  of  his  eflbrts,  ''  it  is  the  partnership  between  Capital 
and  Labor." 

Indeed,  Capital  and  Labor  are  just  as  harmonious  as  roast 
beef  and  a  hungry  stomach.  There  is  the  most  beautiful  har- 
nion3%  the  most  natui-al  partnership,  between  the  two — lohin 
they  are  united  in  one  hand.  But  what  another  contemptible 
jugE'ling  with  w^ords  we  here  have!  As  if  there  were  no  dif- 
ference at  all  between  Capital  and  individual  ••  capital — ists\  " 

Labor,  indeed,  could  not  get  along  very  well  wiihout  Cap- 
ital. But  we  are  not  so  sure,  that  our  workers  would  not  get 
along  tolerably  well,  if  some  beneficent  spirit  should  take 
all  our  capitalists  and  carry  them  up  to  some  othtr  planet,  say 
"Venus ;  especially  if  thej*  had  to  leave  their  Capital  behind  them. 
And.  after  all,  they  might  take  their  Capital  along  with  them 
— wliatthcy  could  carry  away — for  Edward  Atkinson  has  told 
us  that  we  should  all  be  starving  within  one  year,  naked  with- 
in three,  and  houseless  within  ten  years,  if  Capital  was  not 
constantly  being  re-created  by  Labor. 

The  beautiful  harmony  between  capitalists  and  laborerii  is 
happily  illustrated  by  Carlyle  in  the  address  of  Plugson,  Che 
manul'actuier,  to  his  workmen: 

''Noble  spinners!  We  have  gained  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds,  which  is  mine;  thethreeand  sixpence  daily  was  yotn's. 
Adieu,  drink  my  health  with  this  groat  each,  which  I  giv5» 
you  over  and  above." 


THE    PPwOFIT    SYSTEM.  31 

There  is,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  cZis-harraony  between  Labor, 
reduced  to  a  ware,  and  Capital,  wlietlier  in  the  torin  of  grain, 
or  meat,  or  stone,  or  metal,  or  wootl .  or  clay  which  is  labelled : 
'•  hands  off  !  "  There  is.  as  a  matter  of  f:ict,  discord  between 
the  worker — to  whom  nothing  is  coming  boj'ond  necessaries 
and  decencies  of  life;  to  whom  even  the  most  loathsome  and 
irksome  labor  does  not  insure  subsistance ;  who  is  not  benefit- 
ted by  his  own  increased  capacity  of  production  ;  who  is  fir 
from  becoming  richer  the  more  ho  works — and  the  capitalist 
who.  contrariwise,  becomes  richer  the  more  the  workers  toil 
for  him ;  who  is  constantly  being  immensely  benefited  by  ev- 
ery increase  in  productive  capacity.  Insteadof  harmony  there 
is,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  more  than  discord;  thoreisac7i7'omcu"ar- 
fare  between  Capitalists  and  Laborers,  and  as  an  evidence  of 
it  we  point  to — Strikes. 

Capital  and  Labor  Siamese  Twins  I  Are  capitalists  and  la- 
horers  Siamese  Twins  ?  Why  ?  Because  they  are  in  contact  with 
each  other?     So  are  the  horse-leech  and  its  victim. 

Socialism  has  a  serious  dispute  with  Political  Economy  or 
rather  with  its  present  teachers.  The  founders  of  the  science 
taught  many  truths;  truths  which  we  acknowledge  and  on 
which  Socialism,  indeed,  builds.  But  its  professors  claim  that 
it  tells  nations  how  to  become  prosperous.  It  does  no  such 
thing.  It  tells  individuals  how  to  get  rich  :  audit  has  found 
apt  pupils  in  every  civilized  country.  The  wealth  of  the 
civilized  world  is  incredibly  large  and  increasing  at  an  incred- 
ible rate.  Its  present  magnitude  may  be  appreciated  from  the 
fact,  that  the  wealth  accumulated  in  England  during  the,  pres- 
ent century  is  far  greater  than  all  the  wealth  accumulated  dur- 
ing all  previous  centuries.  Or  to  come  down  to  figures:  The 
wealth  of  the  United  Kingdom  was: 

In  1800  Nine  Thousand  Million  Dollars; 

In  1840  Twenty    '' 

In  18G0  Thirty       "-  ''        '' 

In  1880  Forty-five*'  ''        " 

Could  human  elTcu'ts  have  accomplished  more.'  But  is  this 
enormous    Wealth     ••  National   Wealth,"    as    is   pretended? 


32  THE    PROFIT    SYSTEM. 

What  part  have  the  beg<T^ars  in  the  streets  of  London  in  it? 
AVhat  part  have  tlie  Biitish  workingnien,  who  created  this 
wealth,  in  it?     We  shall  see. 

The  income  of  the  United  Kingdom  in  1879  amounted  to 
5,o25  million  dollars,  distributed  as  follows: 

The  w^orkiug-classes  (12  million  persons)  had  2,140  million 
dollars,  or  §  178  to  the  person ;  while  all  others  (3  million  per- 
sons) had  3,185  million  dollars;  of  the  latter,  again  a  little 
over  9.300  individuals  had  ^100,000  apiece.  One  hundred  and 
seventy-eight  dollars  a  year — that,  tlien,  is  the  share  of  the 
British  worker  in  the  "■National"  wealth.  * 

Om*  Political  Economists  are  yet  more  guilty.  Thej'^make 
their  science  sanction  our  present  industrial  arrangements,  in- 
stead of  explaining  them.  They  virtually  teach  that,  be- 
cause things  are  as  they  are,  they  will  always  remain,  and 
ought  always  to  remain  so.  Socialists,  or  Social — Econo- 
mists, as  they  might  call  themselves,  use  the  truths  of  Po- 
litical Economy  to  prepare  for  a  higher  stage  of  development, 
show  the  workers  that   though  now 

"  The  seed  ye  sow  another  reaps ; 
The  wealth  ye  find  another  keeps ; " 

it  will  not  always  be  so,  and  urge  that  a  Social  Order  which  per- 
mits certain  individiuals  to  appropriate  the  withheld  wages  of 
^'cnerjtions  ot  weary  workers  ought  not  to  last. 

The  first  lesson  of  Socialism,  then,  is  that  the  Wage-System^ 
the  Profit-System,  the  Fleecing-System,  is  utterly  unfit  for 
a  higher  civilization. 

''Cut  you  are  not  fair.  You  have  entirely  omitted  to  state 
that  these  individuals  do  contribute  to  the  size  of  your '  cakes.' 

♦Do  not  jump  at  the  conclusion,  that  because  the  British 
workingmaii  is  paid  $'178  a  year  ai)d  the  American  s34(5.  that 
Iherefon;  the  latter  is  twice  as  well  off  as  the  former,  in 
Eiigland  a  given  suui  may  go  tvvici;  as  far  as  ln-re  — for  many 
reasons,  one  of  which  is  trmtthe '•  store-oith'r  ■'systen).  so  ex- 
tensively practised  here,  is  in  England  sternly  forbidden  by 
law. 


THE    PROFIT   SYSTEM.  33 

They  direct  all  these  enterprises,  a  work  of  considerable  impor- 
tance." 

Granted.  Thoy  do  direct,  or  see  to  it  that  somebody  directs. 
But  is  half  the  cake  not  a  pretty  dear  price  for  overseeing 
its  baking?  Could  not  that  work  be  done  in  some  other 
way,  just  as  well  and  somewhat  cheaper? 


CHAPTER  n. 


SOCIAL      ANAKCHY. 


''We  all  can  see  that  there  are  all  over  our  country  energies 
which  cHii  find  no  employment  or,  at  all  events,  minds  which 
are  cruelly  compressed  into  duties  far  too  narrow,  and,  on  Ilia 
other  hand,  work  which  remains  undone  for  want  of  adequate 
ener«'-i('S.  because  no  systematic  attempt  has  yet  been  made  to 
e."«tin)ate  tlie  rcjil  needs  of  the  social  organism  and  to  distrib- 
ute its  loHM's  in  accoidance  with  them. — There  is  no  organic 
ailjiistment  anywhere." — The  "•  Fa/we  of  Life^''''  an  American 
work.  anon. 

••Competition  gluts  our  markets,  euahles  the  rich  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  the  necessities  of  the  poor,  makes  each  man  snatch 
the  bread  out  of  his  neighbor's  mouth,  converts  a  nation  of 
bretlireii  into  a  mass  of  hostile,  isolated  units,  and  linally  in- 
volves capitalists  and  laborers  in  one  common  ruin." — Greg. 

'•It  is  not  to  die,  or  even  to  die  of  hunger  that  makes  a  man 
wrerched;  n)any  men  have  died;  all  men  must  die.  But  it  is 
to  live  niiserable,  we  know  not  why;  to  work  sore  and  yet 
gain  nothing;  to  be  heartworn,  wearj%  yet  isolated,  unrelated, 
girt  in  with  a  cold  universal  Laissez-faire,'*'' — Carlyle. 


The  wage-system  may  be  said  to  be  of  vital  interest  only  to 
the  wage-workers.    They  are  a  considerable  part  of  the  na- 


SOCIAL   ANARCHY.  35 

tion.  They  include  not  only  the  operatives  in  our  factories 
aiul  mines,  but  tlie  whole  army  of  railroad  employees,  all  hired 
napn  on  farms,  all  clerks  engaged  in  stores  and  mercantile  es- 
tablishments; all.  in  fact,  who  help  to  creat(^  Values  and  re- 
ceive a  stated  sahij-y.  And  if  not  their  luimbeis  but  the  Val- 
ues produced  by  tliem  constitute-  the  measm'e  of  tlieir  impor- 
tance, they  will  be  found  very  much  to  oveibalance  our  inde- 
pendent fai-mers.  The  whoh-  agricultural  class (7.600.000 per- 
sons.) indeed,  did  not  create  more  wealth  in  1S80  than  our 
manufacturing  operatives  alone  (2.700.000  in  number.)  But 
though  the  wage-workers  are  a:i  irrtportant  fraction  of  our 
population  they,  nevertheless,  are  but  a  fraction.  If  Socialism 
had  regard  to  thera  only,  it  were  nothing  but  a  cZass-move- 
ment. 

We  claim  there  is  a  something-wrong  in  Society  which  vi- 
tally affects  the  whole  nation  and  every  individual  of  it.  In 
prosperous  years  it  may  not  obtrude  itself  on  the  attention  of 
thoughtless  people,  but  let  ''  hard  times  "  come  on,  and  it 
makes  everybody  feel  uneasJ^  What  is  this  "something- 
wrong  ■'  ?  Socialists  say  that  it  is  nothing  less  than  the  meth- 
od, the  polic}^,  which  governs  all  activities  of  the  principal 
nations  of  our  time.  It  is  spreading  itself  in  Catholic  socie- 
ties, and  throughout  the  whole  world,  but  it  arose  in  Protes- 
tant countries.  It  is,  in  fact,  simply  the  exaggerated  form  of 
one  of  the  principles  of  Protestantism:  the  independence  of 
the  individual ;  which  exaggerated  individual  independence 
we  can  properly  call :  Individualism.  We  can  also  call  the  pol- 
icy:  the  ''  let  alone  "  policy;  its  admirers  give  it  a  more  eu- 
phonious name :  Private  Enterprise. 

Len  alone  lohora — what? 

In  the  middle  ages  t!ie  feudal  barons  erected  castles,  from 
which  the\'  issued  forth  with  their  retainers,  when  they  espied 
merchants  and  adventurers  approaching  on  the  contiguous 
highwa3's  laden  with  wealth,  stopped  tliem — and  levied  tolls. 
All  that  these  barons  desired  was  to  be  •* let  alone."  In  our 
age  it  is  the  spiritual  descendants  of  these  merchants  and  ad- 
ventui'ers  who  have  grown  powerful,  fattened  on  *"'  lleecings." 
They  in  their  turn  demand  to  "  be  let  alone;"  they  demand 


36  SOCIAL  ANARCHY. 

that  society  shall  be  an  unrestricted  hunthig  ground  for  their 
''enterprise."  They  are  let  alone;  we  shall  now  note  \\ith 
what  results  to  the  different  classes  of  society. 

Before  our  i)resent  industrial  system  got  into  full  swing — 
that  is,  betore  the  power  of  steam  was  utilized  — the  master- 
workman  was  an  adept  in  liis  trade  and  owned  his  tools  and 
the  raw-materials  lie  used.  This  is  all  now  changed.  The  work- 
man is  now  divorced  from  his  implements  and  raw  materials 
which  have  got  under  the  complete  control  of  the  capitalist 
class;  he  now  hus  nothing  left  but  his  naked  labor.  This  it 
is,  again,  which  enables  omployers  to  buy  labor  in  the  market 
for  a  ])ricemuch  below  the  productivity  of  that  labor;  that  is 
at  a  value  much  below  its  toorih. 

This  monopoly  lias  mad(j  employers  into  a  class  of  autocrats, 
the  laborers  int(^  a  class  of  dependents — of  hirelings.  As 
Jesse  Jones  saj'S  I:;  Lbe  "International  Ucviow,"  of  October 
1S80;  ••  A  class  is  hxed,  when  nine-tenths  of  those  comprising 
it  can  never  get  out  of  it.  *  *  *  Why  mock  workingmeu  by 
putting  rare  exceptions  for  a  general  rule?  " 

The  laboring  men  are  dealt  with  by  our  managers  as  mere 
tools.  They  are  spoken  of  as  tools,  as  things.  This  humani- 
tarian age  counts  steers  and  sheep  by  *•  heads"  and  the  work- 
ers by  *-Aands."  A  pity  God  did  not  make  them  only  *•  hands  I  " 

It  is  a  paltry  evasioii  to  say,  that  the  workers  are  free  to  con- 
sent or  to  refuse  the  terms  of  the  employer.  It  is  an  evasion 
worthy  of  the  man  who  asked  permission  of  the  Virgin  to  rob 
her  of  her  necklace — and  then  did  it.  taking  silence  for  con- 
sent. T'he  Laborers  have  to  consent.  If  they  refuse  the  terms, 
capitalists  sim[)ly  stop  business;  they  can  stand  it.  •"  Hard 
times'"  are  really  only  hard  on  those  whobc  subsistence  de- 
pends on  having  work  to  do.  Tlie  wives  and  daughters  of 
capitalists  do,  as  a  rule,  not  leave  off  during  •'  hard  times''  at- 
tending operas  in  their  silks,  satins  and  diamonds;  do  not,  as 
a  rule,  quit  their  luxurious  brownstone-f  routs  or  dismiss  their 
liveried  servants. 

Henry  George  in  his '' Progress  and  Poverty''  epitomizes 
the  position  of  our  laborers  as  follows :     '"  Compelled  to  more 


SOCIAL    ANARCHY.  37 

continuous  labor  tlian  the  savage,  the  laborer  —  a  mere  link  in 
an  enormous  chain  of  i>roducers  and  consumers,  helpless  to 
separate  himself  and  helpless  to  move,  except  as  they  move 
—  gains  the  mere  necessaries  of  life,  just  what  the  savage 
gets,  and  loses  the  independence  of  the  savage."  And  as  to 
security  he  is  not  much  better  off  The  irregularity  of  his 
employment,  the  frequency  with  which  he  is  out  of  vvorlv,  is 
th J  aijst  uiannia^  faature  of  the  workiagmau's  condition.  And 
that  irregularity  is  often,  very  often,  pui-poseiy  brought  about 
by  tne  einpk)3'ing  capitalist  class.  For  ia-stance,  in  order  to 
put  up  the  price  of  anthracite  coal,  out  of  twcntj'-four  work- 
ing days  of  a  certain  month  nine  were  made  idle  days  by  tiie 
coal  compar.ies  of  Pennsylvania.  The  mining  was  interrupt- 
ed to  iiaiic  sui)ply  and  the  miners  were  left  to  do  the  best  they 
could  with  work  for  two  days  out  of  every  three. 

'I'iiis  condition  lias  been  rendered  yet  enormously  more  pre- 
carious by  the  remarkable  industrial  inventions  of  the  age. 

These  victories  of  man,  of  Societ}',  over  Nature's  physical 
forces  ougiit  cerlainiy  to  have  been  miquaiitied  blessings  to 
all. 

Yet,  how  often  have  they  proven  instruments  of  tortui-e  to  the 
working  class!  How  many  has  Liie  introduction  of  new  ma- 
chinery not  thrown  out  of  employment;  how  many  exist- 
ences have  not  thereby  been  destroj'cd! 

We  are  familiar  with  tlic  commonplace,  that  the  outcry  of 
laborers  against  **  new-fangled  machinery ''  is  a  complaint  born 
of  ignorance;  that  in  the  end  the  working  classes  areas  umcli 
benetitted  as  other  classes.  This  outcr}^  is  by  1:0  means  noth- 
ing but  an  ignorant  cliildlsli  complaint.  Machinery  would  be 
an  unquaiilied  blessing,  if  the  temporary  injury  which  it  so 
often  has  caused  to  individuals  and  whole  bodies  of  UKm  were 
considered  in  a  spirit  of  social  justice  and  brotherliness,  That 
has  never  been  done  wherever  the  working  clauses  are  con- 
sidered^ either  in  tiiis  or  any  other  country.  In  their  case  our 
legislators  persistently  repudiate  the  duty  to  take  care  of  the 
iuterescs  of  those  who  are  sacriticed  for  the  benetit  of  their 
fellow  citizens  and  of  posterity,  iiut  whenever  other  classes 
have  bei^n  thus  aliected  there  iuis  never  been  the  sliif  htest  hesita- 


33  SOCIAL  ANARCHY. 

tioii  to  liberally  compensate  those,  prejudicially  affected.  It 
is  the  action  of  Society  thnt  has  made  machinery  an  evil.  This 
is  the  real  meaning  of  the  outcry  against  "  newfangled  ma- 
chinery." 

And  we  deny  that  working  people  hitherto  have  been  essen- 
tially benefitted  by  machinery  and  inventions  at  all.  The  sew- 
ing macliine  is  a  pointed  illustration.  That  was  thought,  at 
all  events,  to  be  a  blessing  to  the  overworked,  famishing  needle- 
woman. Yet  what  has  followed?  That  she  is  now  still  more 
overworked,  more  poorly  paid  and  her  health  siill  more  en- 
dangered. 

But,  to  be  sure — these  inventions  were  not  adopted  by  cap- 
italists for  the  benefit  of  workpe  >ple,  or  for  the  general  bene- 
fit; no,  indeed!  For,  of  course,  tiiis  machinery  and  these  in- 
ventions have  also  gone  into  the  hands  of  capitalists  and  are 
controlled  by  them  for  their  exclusive  benefit;  and  with  ad- 
mirable results.  It  has  been  calculated  that  two-thirds  of  all 
benefit  arising  from  the  use  of  machinery  liavc  goiic  to  those 
''j>ushing"  follows  and  the  remaining  one-third  to  the  con- 
sumers. Even  our  patt-.nt  laws,  with  the  general  advantage  for 
their  primary  idea,  have  become  a  means  of  enabling  these 
capitalists,  in  no  sense  inventors,  to  levy  heavy  tribute  upon 
the  comnumity  for  an  indefinite  length  of  time. 

•'•  Ah  !  but  the  workers  are  also  consumers,  we  should  think, 
and  form  the  majority  in  fact  of  all  consumers."  ' 

Hold  on,  sir!  Has  macliinenj  lightened  the  daffs  toil  of  any 
worker?  That  is  what  ought  to  »neasure  the  benefits  of  ma- 
chintry  to  him.     Let  us  see,  if  it  has. 

Here  is  one  picture :  Massachusetts  is  a  model  state,  we 
siippose.  Well,  a  statute;  of  that  State  in  1860  made  ten  hours 
a  maxium  working  day  for  children  under  twelve  years  of  age, 

In  1807  her  legislators  became  a  little  more  humane  and  en- 
acted that  no  child  wwdaY  fifteen  years  of  age  should  work  more 
than  sixty  hours  a  week.  Go  to  Pennsylvania,  and  see  children 
ten  years  old  taken  down  every  morning  into  the  mines  to 
work!  Here  is  another  picture:  In  England,  two  bundled 
years  back  ten  hours  were  a  normal  working  day  for  strong  black' 


SOCIAL  ANAECIIY.  39 

tmiths  and  robust  agricultural  laborers.  * 

•' But  compare  tlie  comforts  of  our  laborers  two  hundred 
years  ago.     What  a  wouderful  betterment  hi  that  respect ! " 

What  of  it?  What  comfort  is  that  to  our  hiborersV  You 
might  as  well  compare  their  condition  with  that  of  a  savage 
in  Africa  who  does  not  need  a  coat,  does  not  need  soap.  Just 
so  the  laborers  of  a  former  age  did  not  need  a  good  many 
things  whicli  now  are  necessaries  or  deceucies  of  life.  We  say 
their  condition  has  not  improved,  because  it  takes  considera- 
ble more  toil  to  procure  the  needful  now  than  it  did  then,  as 
testified  to,  among  others,  by  Hallam  :  ''  The  laborer  is  much 
inferior  in  abiUty  to  support  a  iamily  than  were  his  ancestors 
four  centuries  ago."  Why !  before  the  beginning  of  this  ''cap- 
italistic" system  laborers  could  in  England  live  a  whole  week 
upon  the  earnings  of  four  days  '^  now  in  Massachusetts  he  often 
cannot  live  a  week  upon  the  earnings  of  a  week  of  much  more 
continuous  toil.  No,  in  many  cases  he  is  obliged  to  disrupt 
his  family  and  send  his  wife  and  children  to  the  factory. 

For  that  is  the  greatest  curse  of  machinery — or  rather  of 
''  individualistic''''  monopoly  of  machinery — that  capital  can  be 
and  is  coined  out  of  women  and  even  out  of  infancy ;  that 
women  and  children  can  be  and  are  substituted  for  men.  Thus, 
not  alone  are  men  turned  into  wares,  governed  by  Demand  and 
Supply,  but  men  are  made  to  scramble  for  a  precarious  living 
with  their  wives,  sisters  and  children.  In  the  cotton  and  woollen 
factories  of  enlightened  Massachusetts  women  and  children 
now  compose  two-thirds  of  the  working  force.  The  necessa- 
ry result  is  a  great  reduction  in  wages.  It  is  notorious  that 
the  wages  thus  earnetl  by  a  whole  family  do  not,  on  an  aver- 
age, exceed  those  of  the  head  of  the  family  in  occupations 
where  it  has  not  yet  become  habitual  to  employ  women  and 
children . 

And  do  not  venture  to  (io\n\)ViYet\\e  independence  of  o\xv  work- 
ing classes  with  the  artisans  of  England  of  a  former  age,  who 
partly  worked  for  themselves,  and  possessed  a  cottage  and  a 

♦Thornton:  Over  population  and  its  remedy  Prof.  Thor- 
aldKogers:  History  of  Agriculture  in  England.  Hallam, 
2nd  part  of  9th  Chap,  of  '•  The  Middle  Ages." 


40  SOCIAL  ANARCHY. 

COW  and  a  strip  of  land  to  cultivate.  Our  ox-eyed,  docile 
wage- workers,  restrained  by  arbitrary  shop  rules  prescribed 
by  their  lord — rules  tliat  forbid  them  to  talk  to  each  other  or 
even  to  laugh  (  / ) — will  not  for  a  moment  bear  comparison  with 
the  merry  families  of  master  and  men  of  the  despised  Middle 
Age. 

The  first  result  of  the '"Let  alone"  System,  thus,  is  that 
capitalists  monopolize  all  the  instruments  of  production,  all 
the  previous  acquisitions  of  Society,  all  increase  in  the  produc- 
tivity of  Labor,  and  therefore,  exercise  an  autocratic  control  of 
all  industries  and  over  the  whole  working  class. 

The  great  weapon  at  the  command  of  the  capitalist  is  Com- 
petition. 

*"  Competition,"  like  most  economical  terms,  is  a  very  slip- 
pery word.  At  one  time  it  means  something  which  advances 
the  successful,  but  leaves  the  unsuccessfnl  on  his  former  level, 
that  kind  of  competition  rouses  the  energ;y  of  both,  of  tlie  un- 
successful as  well  as  of  the  successful  and  increases  the  ca- 
pacity of  both.  We  shall  call  that  by  a  much  more  appropri- 
ate term :    Emulation. 

At  another  time  ••'  competition  "  means  the  advancing  one- 
self at  the  cost  of  others;  the  pulling  the  many  down,  the  el- 
bowing the  many  aside,  in  order  to  advance  the  one.  That 
*' competition  "  is  most  ciuel  to  the  individual  and.  in  the 
long  run,  most'lnjurious  to  Society. 

It  deserves  the  name  of  "  cut-throat  competition  "  when  the 
wage-workers  are  forced  inU)  a  struggle  to  see  who  shall  live 
and  who  shall  starve. 

But  these  are  by  no  means  the  only  sufferers.  The  small 
employers,  the  small  merchants  are  just  as  much  victims  of 
that  cruel  kind  of  competition  as  the  wage-worker.  For  ev<'ry 
one  of  the  fleecers  lives  in  a  state  of  nature  with  all  of  his 
brethren;  the  hand  of  the  one  is  against  the  other,  and  no 
foe  is  more  terrible  tlian  the  one  who  is  running  a  neck-to-ncck 
race  with  him  every  day.  The  mammoth  factory,  the  mam- 
moth store  is  a  most  implacable  foe.  The  fierce  competition 
lessens  the  profit  on  each  article,  and  that  must  be  compensa- 


SOCIAL  ANARCHY.  41 

ted  foi  by  a  greater  number  of  them  being  produced  and  sold, 
that  is,  the  cheaper  the  goods,  tlie  more  capital  is  required. 

Precisely,  therefore,  for  the  same  reason  that  tlie  mechanic 
with  liis  own  shop  and  working  on  his  own  account  nearly  has 
disappeared  in  the  struggle  between  hand-work  and  machine- 
work,  the  small  employers  with  their  little  machinery,  their 
small  capital  and  their  little  stock  of  goods  are  being  driven 
from  the  field. 

Look  at  those  queer  ^n«ces  of  ours  —vulgar  men,  far  from 
possessing  eminent  faculties  or  high  attainments;  mow  having 
no  more  knowledge  or  mental  capacity  than  is  reqnin*d  in 
many  mechanical  pursuits — who  by  the  employment  and 
power  of  their  capital  yearly  ruin  multitudes  of  hard  working 
merchants,  and  boast  that  they  are  selling  more  goods  in  a 
day  than  the  whole  "  crowd  "  of  other  stores  in  a  week  !  Scores 
of  such  small  merchants,  driven  to  the  wall  by  an  A.  T.  Stew- 
art, had  to  be  glad,  if  the  "•  prince  *'  would  make  them  his  ser- 
vants and  graciously  allow  them  to  help  swell  his  millions. 

In  short,  the  smaller  fortunes  investetl  in  productive  or  com- 
mercial enterprises  are  by  this  cnt-throat  competition  attract- 
ed to  the  great  capitals,  just  as  iron  filings  are  to  the  niagnft. 
The  great;  capitalist  triumphs,  the  small  capitalist  becomes  a 
clerk,  wage-laborer  or  parasite  of  some  kind  or  other;  the 
middle  class  disappears  little  by  little.  Our  social  order  may  fit- 
ly be  compared  to  a  ladder  of  which  the  middle  rounds  are 
being  torn  away,  one  by  one. 

This,  then,  is  another  fruit  of  Private  "Enterprise."  that 
the  small  employers  are  gradually  being  rooted  out  by  the  great 
capitalists. 

1  n  former  periods  Society  was  tormented  with  plagues,  cansod, 
as  we  now  know,  by  ignorance  and  consequent  violation  of 
the  laws  of  health.  Our  era  is  cursed  with  Crises,  occurring 
far  more  frequently  than  plagues  and  causing  with  each  oc- 
currence as  nuich  misery. 

Economists  say,  that  these  crises  are  caused  by  overproduc- 
tion. ''  Overproduction  !  " — a  remarkable  word,  in  trutlu  as 
long  as  O'le  unfed  and  unclad  human  being,  willing  to  work, 


42  SOCIAL  ANARCHY. 

roams  the  earth.  Would  not  our  aucestorsof  any  preceeding 
ai^e  Iiave  considered  anyone  who  would  have  talked  to  them 
of  overproduction  a  lunatic?  Could  they,  you  think,  have  con- 
ceived of  sucii  an  •ibnorniiry  as  tliat  any  nation  could  ever  suf- 
fer from  too  much  i;idu.-try,  too  much  commerce,  ^oo^nan?/ tools 
and  too  much  food?  lUit  we  onglU.  in  order  to  be  fair,  to  take 
the  word  in  the  sense  of  these  economists.  They  mean  by 
"  overproduction  ''  a  too  lar^^e  production,  compared  with  the 
effective  demand.  But,  then,  wliat  is  the  cause  of  the  too  large 
production? 

Pnvate  Enterprise  Socialists  s<\y.  Private  Enterprise  com- 
pels every  producer  to  produce  for  himself,  to  sell  for  himself, 
to  keep  all  his  transactions  secret,  without  any  regard  what- 
ever for  anybody  else  in  the  wide  world.  But  the  producer 
and  mei'chait — the  small  ones,  especiall}' — find  daily  out,  that 
their  success  or  failure  depend,  in  th^  first  place,  precisely  on 
how  much  others  produce  and  sell^  and,  in  the  second  place,  on  a 
multitude  of  causes — often  on  thiiigs  that  may  happen  thou- 
sands of  iniL's  away — whicli  doter.nine  the  po'.ver  of  purchase 
of  their  customers.  They  have  got  no  measure  at  hand  at  all 
by  which  they  can,  even  approximately,  estimate  the  actual 
cilective  demand  of  consumers  or  ascertain  the  producing  ca- 
])acity  of  their  rivals.  In  other  words  :  Private  "Enterprise" 
is  a  defiance  of  Nature's  law  which  decrees  that  the  interests 
of  Society  ai'ii  interdependent;  and  Nature  punishes  that  defi- 
ance in  her  own  crude  way  by  playing  ball  with  these  individ- 
ualist'?, and  what  is  worse,  by  rendering  all  production,  all 
commerce  chaotic.        Bisk  is  Nature's  Ilevenge. 

Just  take  a  bird"s-e3'e  view  of  the  way  Private  ''  Enterprise '' 
mannges  affairs.  Observe  how  eyivy  manufacturer,  evcrj''  mer- 
t  hant  strives  in  ev(M-y  possible  waj- — by  glaring  advertise- 
ments, f)y  underselling  others,  l)}'  giving  long  ci-fdits,  by  send- 
ing out  an  army  of  ditunmers — to  beat  his  rivals.  Not  one 
here  and  thei-e,  not  a  few  do  this;  they  all  do  it.  We  shall 
suppose  the  season  a  favorable  one;  all  of  them  receive  or- 
dns  in  greater  n'jmber  than  they  expected.  These  orders 
stimulate  each  owo.  of  the  tnanufacturers  to  a  more  ajid  more 
enlarged  production  far  ahead  of  the  (  rders  received,   in    the 


SOCIAL    ANARCHY.  43 

hope  of  being  able  to  dispose  of  all  that  is  being  prodacod. 
But  mark  I  this  prodnctioii  of  all  these  mannfaeturers  is  and 
in  list  necessarily  be,  absolutely  pZajiZess.  It  depends  altogeth- 
er on  chance  and  the  private  guesswork  of  these  '•  enterprising  " 
individuals,  who  ail  are  guessing  entirely  in  the  dark.  That 
means  that  all  rheir  production,  all  their  commerce,  is  in  the 
nature  of  gambling.  To  a  thoughtful  observer  nothing  will  seem 
more  inevitable,  than  that  i\\\9,  planless  production  must  end  in 
the  market  being  at  some  time  overstocked  with  commodities 
of  one  kind  or  another;  that  is,  that  it  must  end  in  "overpro- 
duction" as  to  those  goods.  In  that  branch  of  production  prices, 
consequently,  fall,  wages  come  down,  or  a  great  manufactur- 
er f  dls,  and  a  smaller  or  greater  number  of  workmen  are  dis- 
charged. 

But  one  branch  of  industry  depends  upon  another;  one 
branch  suffers  when  another  is  depressed!  The  stoppage  of  pro- 
duction at  one  point,  therefore,  necessarily  shows  itself  at  an- 
other point  in  the  industrial  network.  The  circle  of  depression 
thus  grows  larger  and  larger  from  month  to  month,  fiiilure 
succeeds  failure,  the  general  consumption  diminishes,  all  pro- 
duction and  conuuerce  is  paralyzed.  We  have  got  the  crisis. 
To  those  who  were  all  the  time  planning  and  working  in  the 
dark  everything  seemed  to  be  going  on  as  usual ;  it  has  natural- 
ly come  on  them  like  a  thunderbolt  from  a  clear  sky. 

Vast  quantities  of  stored  up  goods  now  have  to  be  disposed 
of  at  great  sacrifice,  to  the  ruin  not  alone  of  their  owners  but 
of  man}'  others  who  thereby  are  forced,  likewise,  to  sell  u;idt>r 
cost-price.  Then  it  is  we  hear  from  everyone  in  ever}'  calling 
this  the  .strongest  of  all  condemnations  of  this  Social  -•  Ordei " 
of  ours:  *"  We  have  too  many  competitoi's;  half  of  us  must 
perisli,  befoie  the  other  half  can  live."  All  the  result  of  pZa?*- 
less  work. 

When  such  a  crisis  ha«  lasted  for  years,  when  such  sacrifice 
of  goods  and  standstill  of  production  has  finally  overcome 
the  ••  overproductioij,"  then  the  inevitable  demand  at  length 
c.'ills  for  renewed  production;  aid  Soeiet}^  commences  to  re- 
cover slowly,  but  only  to  repeat  the  old'jStory.  Producers 
want  to   indemnify   themselves  for   what  they  have  lost  and 


44  SOCIAL   ANARCHY. 

hope  to  "make"  sufficient,  before  another  crisis  comes  on. 
Because  all  producers  act  m  like  manner,  each  one  trying  to 
outflank  the  other,  another  catastrophe  is  invited.  It  responds 
to  the  call  and  approaches  witii  accelerated  strides  and  with 
more  damaging  effects  than  any  of  its  predecessors. 

These  crises  very  much  quicken  the  absorption  of  the  small- 
er fortunes  by  the  large  ones,  for  tlie  capitalist  with  large  re- 
sources is  the  only  one  capable  in  the  long  run  of  withstand- 
ing this  rough  treatment  of  outraged  Nature.  The  smaller  cap- 
italists the  crises  swallow  np  like  veritable  maelstroms. 

Tliese  mculstroms :  the  crises,  then^  are  the  direct  production  of 
Private  Enterprise, 

Again,  we  saw  how  the  workingmen  were  driven  out  of  their 
employment  as  producers,  how  the  small  employers  were  pnsh- 
ed  out  of  their  business  by  this  cut-throat  competition,  in 
nine  cases  out  of  ten  tliey  have  only  one  refuge  ic'.t:  that  of 
squeezing  themselves  in  bet\vo(;n  producers  and  con-umers  as 
shopkeepers,  saloonkeep;M"s.  ped  Hers,  "agents."  boarding-and 
lodging-house-keepeis  ;  that  is,  of  hQQommg parasites. 

It  may  seem  hard  to  speak  thus  of  persons  who  by  no  means 
lead  an  enviable  existence,  who  honestly  try  to  make  some 
sort  of  a  living,  whose  life  often  is  a  tread-mill  of  diudgx  i  y 
and,  if  different  from  that  of  the  working-man's,  is  only  dif- 
ferent in  this,  that  while  the  latter  struggles  foi*  the  nee  '^^ities 
of  today,  the  lormer  struggle  for  the  threatened  necessities  of 
tomorrow. 

They  are,  nevertheless,  parasites,  unnecessary  workers.  Going 
along  our  streets  you  observe  one  small  store,  one  board! i:g- 
liouse  crowding  another,  one  saloon,  and  often  several,  in  one 
block:  3'ou  will  have  all  kinds  of  men  and  women  tin ust  their 
small  stock  into  your  face;  in  your  house  you  will  be  annoyed 
by  all  kinds  of  peddlers  and  agents,  socalled. 

All  these  people  live.  Somehodij  must  earn  their  living  for 
them. 

In  the  first  place,  tliev  live  by  enhancing  the  i)ii('e  of  pro- 
visions and  all  other  goods  twice  and  three  times  what  the  ])ro- 
dueers  get.    The  difference  between  their  prices  and   whol^. 


SOCIAL  ANARCHY.  45 

sale  prices  makes  just  the  difference  between  healtlifiil  plenty 
and  lialf  satisfied  Iiunger  for  tlie  poor.  It  is  a  j»Teat  mistake  to 
suppose  that  competition  always,  or  necessarily  lowers  prices. 
It  often  lias  just  the  contrary  effect.  Probabl}^  two-thirds  of 
existing  small  shopkeepers  can  not  make  a  decent  living  with- 
out extravagant  profits.  Or,  if  the  prices  can  not  be  enhanced, 
then 

In  the  second  plaee.  they  live  by  depreciating  the  quality 
of  their  goods  and  by  short  weights  and  measures.  Adulter- 
ation of  provisions  and  merchandize  is  notoriously  carried  on 
in  every  branch  of  trade  that  wi  11  permit  of  it ;  has  indeed  become 
a  social  institution,  against  which  no  law  can  uiake  any  head- 
way. A  representative  of  a  leading  spice  house  lately  said: 
*'  We  sell  to  the  trade  more  adulterated  goods  than  pure.  We 
cannot  help  it.  AVe  simply  sell  the  retailer  what  he  wants. 
It  would  ruin  the  trade  to  prohibit  adulteration."  Competition 
in  drugs  is  now  so  hot,  dealers,  in  order  to  live,  are  compelled 
to  adulterate,  to  weaken  and  to  substitute  It  has  gone  so  far, 
that  manufacturers  of  "mineral  pulp,''  now  boldly  imi)ortune 
resjiectable  millers  and  grocers  to  mix  rock-dust  with  their 
flour  and  sugar, 

The  laboring  class,  more  than  any  other,  is  the  natural  prey 
of  these  parasites.  Remember,  that  the  laborer's  ware,  his 
labor,  is  never  paid  for  till  it  has  been  used  ;  that  he  must 
give  his  employer  credit,  always  for  a  week,  often  for  two 
weeks  or  a  month;  that  he  will  have  to  wait  for  his  compen- 
sation, even  while  the  values  he  has  created  have  been  long 
since  converted  into  cash  in  his  employer's  hands.  It  is  a  neces- 
sary consequence,  that  he,  on  his  part,  must  ask  credit  from 
his  shopkeeper.  He  becomes  the  prej',  bound  hand  and  foot,  of 
that  shopkeeper.  He  dare  not  murmur  at  the  price  charged, 
dares  not  be  over  particular  as  to  weight  or  qualit}'.  He  is  pret- 
ty much  in  the  same  fix  as  the  fly  in  the  spider's  web. 

Thus  the  portion  of  the  industrial  cake  allotted  to  labor  is 
further  considerably  curtailed,  and  all  on  account  of  Private 
^'' Enterprise  ; ''^  for  it,  also ^  is  exclusively  responsible  for  these 
parasites. 


46  SOCIAL  ANAKCHY. 

Let  lis  pass  over  to  our  farmers.  They,  as  yet  the  majonty 
of  our  working  popuhition,  are  still  the  great  conservative 
force,  the  brake,  so  to  speak,  on  tlie  wlieel  of  progress.  Is  it 
likely  that  they  will  coutimie  to  be?     We  sliall  see. 

Our  farmers  were  half  a  geucraiiou  ago  considered  and  ure 
still  considered  the  most  independent  and  prosperous  class  of 
the  community. 

True,  the  prosperity  of  the  western  farmer,  especially,  was 
and  is  not  of  a  character  to  excite  the  envy  of  anybody.  His 
whole  life,  and  more  particularly  that  of  his  wife,  was  one  of 
toil.  He  had  to  break  our  lauds  and  clear  our  forests.  His 
fainily  had  to  subject  themselves  to  all  kinds  of  privations  for 
a  lifetime  of  dreary  years.  The  social  life  of  the  farmers'  wives 
was  a  mockery  of  our  civilization;  their  f^isters  struggling  in 
the  cities  had.  at  least,  the  comfort  of  suflfering  in  company. 
To  the  family  of  the  farmer  sugar,  tea  and  coftee  were,  for  a 
series  of  yeai'S.  luxuries,  especially  when  droughts  and  grass- 
lioppers  destroved  the  fruits  ot  his  toil,  generally  as  severe  as 
that  of  his  horse.  And  his  reward?  That  of  vegetating  and 
'•raising"  a  family,  as  we  so  expressively  term  it;  yes — 
and  of  being  the  owner  of  his  farm. 

But  his  ownership  is  even  now.  frequently,  one  in  name 
only.  The  capitalist  has  got  hold  of  him  also.  Ver}'  many 
of  the  western  farms  are  covered  with  mortgages,  which  their 
nominal  owners  have  no  hope  of  ever  raising.  This  fact  is  so 
well  known,  that  the  N.  Y.  "  Times  "  some  time  ago  advised 
the  farmers  to  prepare  themselves  for  their  fate.  >Vhat 
fate?  'J'hat  of  becoming  tenant-farmers  like  their  brethren 
of  Great  Britain. 

It  is,  especially,  since  the  commencement  of  the  last  decade 
that  they  are  falling  victims  to  •'  Private  Enterprise.'" 

There  is  in  the  "  Atlantic  Monthly"  for  Jan  iry  ISSO  a  most 
histructive  article.*  entitled  *' Bonanza  Farms."  containing 
many  startling  facts,  which  in  the  near  future  cannot  but  have 
an  important  bearing  on  tho  condition  of  our  farmers.  These 
*•'  Bonanza  Farms"  are  vast  Cultivated  tracts  of  land  in  Min- 

♦  Embodied  in  a  book  called  •'  liand  and  Lalior,"  published 
by  8cribuer  and  Sons.     Mr.  Moody  of  Bosto.i  is  the  author. 


SOCIAL  ANARCHY.  47 

f 

nesota,  Dakota,  Texas,  Kansas  and  California,  ftach  containing 
thousands  of  acres  of  land  owned  by  presidents  and  directors 
of  railways,  by  bankers  in  St.  Paul  and  \<  \v  York,  London 
and  Frankfort-on-the-Main.  They  are  conducted  on  purely 
'•business." — tliat  is.  capitalist  principles.  On  these  farms 
thrre  are  no  families,  no  womea,  no  children,  no  homes.  There 
is  no  need  for  them.  But  there  is  plenty  of  "Labor"'  in  the 
neighborhood.  Tiiere  is  snch  an  abundance  of  unemployed 
luen,  that  the  managers  of  the  farms  can  hire  all  the  labor  they 
want  for  !$16,00  a  month,  during  the  busy  seasons  with  thir- 
teen hours  of  d.iily  labor,  and  for  ^8.00  a  month  dnring  the 
balance  of  the  year. 

This  fact  alone  would  render  it  absolntoly  out  of  the  ques- 
tion for  the  snrronnding  small  farmers  to  compete  with  the 
bonanzas.  For  the  former  have  to  support  a  family,  and  to 
feed,  clothe  and  shelter,  and  altogether  })rovlde  for  the  same 
number  of  persons  thronghout  the  whole  year,  while  the  lat- 
ter only  need  to  hire  about  one-fourth  the  number  of  persons, 
in  proportion  to  the  work  to  be  done,  and  that  for  less  than 
one-fourth  of  the  year.  But  the  small  farmer  has  other  and 
greater  odds  still  to  contend  with :  the  discrimination  practised 
by  other  large  coi  porntions.  Thus,  the  bonanzas  obtain  spec- 
ial rates  from  the  railroad  companies  :  /.  i.  thev  are  charged 
for  the  transportation  of  their  produce  rates,  litty  per  cent  be- 
low those  which  the  other  farmers  are  obliged  to  pa}^;  they 
buy  their  machinery  and  farming  implements  of  the  manu- 
facturers and  dealers  at  a  discount  of  33  1-3  per  cent. 
from  the  published  rates.  We  ought,  tlierefoi-e.  not  to  won- 
der, when  we  are  told,  tliat  the  snri-ounding  small  farmers  are 
hop  lessly  in  debt,  while  the  owners  ol  these  bonanza  farms 
— the  aforesaid  bankers  and  railroad-presidents — are  amassing 
colossal  fortunes;  tiiat  they  even  with  wheat  at  only  70  cts.  a 
bushel  realize  twenty  per  cent,  the  tiist  year  on  their  capital 
and  the  second  year — fifty-live  per  cent. 

The  article  concludes  with  the  remark :  '*  We  are  taking  im- 
mense strides  in  placing  our  country  in  the  position  of  Great 
Britain,  and  even  worse."  So  it  seems.  For  there  the  (arms 
are  practically  homesteads,  while  the  bonanza  farms  have  noth- 


48  SOCIAL  ANARCHY. 

ing  suggesting  homes,  except  a  building  for  the  bachelor  su- 
porintendent  and  the  boarding  house  for  the  "hands." 
There  is  no  doubt  that  these  bonanzas  will  in  the  near 
future  increase  greatly  in  number.  Thus  our  public  lands, 
which  were  intended  for  happy  homes  are  in  a  fair  way  o'  be- 
coming no  better  than  penal  colonies,  and  of  being  robbed  o/ 
their  rich  soil  for  the  benefit  of  capitalist  pockets.  What 
win  then  become  of  our  farmer-''  propiietors "  but  farmer- 
tenants?  If  they  fire  already  running  behindhand  now^  how 
much  time  will  it  take  for  the  bonanza  farmers  to  put  an  end 
to  their  proprietorship,  by  means  of  Private  ''Enterprise?" 
Especially  if  our  export  to  Europe,  on  account  of  good  har- 
vest there,  should  happen  to  cease.  Bear  in  mind,  that  our 
countiy  already  now  produces  far  more  food  than  our  popula- 
tion could  possiblj'^  consume,  and  yet  thousands  of  acres  are 
yearly  added  to  the  area  under  cultivation. 

Yes,  the  time  will  come,  when  our  farmers  will  learn,  that 
Socialism  is  the  only  refuge  alike  for  them  and  the  other  work- 
ing classes,  and  their  ej'^es  may  be  opened  to  the  advantage  of 
the  Cooperative  Commonwealth.  The  great  dairy  farms  in  New 
York  State  and  elsewhere  may  also  contribute  their  quota  to 
this  lesson. 

Thus  even  our  farmers.  2i^  jQit\\Q  most  splendid  yeomanry 
the  world  has  ever  seen,  are  becoming  the  victims  of  Pnvate 
Enterprise  to  fully  the  same  extent  as  our  workingman  and  small 
employer. 

But  our  big  capitalists  have  a  still  more  powerful  sledge- 
hannner  than  that  of  Competition  ready  at  hand,  to  wit :  Com- 
bination. 

These  gentlemen  know  practical  dialectics.  They  know, 
that,  though  Competition  and  Combination  areopposites,  they 
yet  may  come  to  mean  the  same  thing — to  them.  They  have 
alread}''  found  that  while  Competition  is  a  very  excellent  weap- 
on to  use  against  their  weaker  rivals.  Combination  pays  far  bet- 
ter in  relation  to  their  peers.  It  is  evident,  that  it  is  combin- 
ation they  mainly  rely  upon  for  their  future  aggrandizement. 

Combination  consists  in  one  or  several  capitalists  or  corpora- 


SOCIAL  ANARCHY.  49 

tions  helping  along  a  third,  on  the  condition  of  participating 
in  the  tleecings.  Wc  havL'  already  mentioned  one  sucii  instance. 
We  saw  how  railroad  officers  united  with  bonanza  farmers  to 
crrish  out  the  small  farmers.  We  read  of  another  instructiv'e 
iiistance  in  an  article  published  in  the  •'  Atlantic  Monthly  "  for 
Marcli  18S1,  and  lieaded:     "'The  story  of  a  great  MonopolJ^" 

It  tells,  how  I  he  Erie  and  Pennsylvania  Railroads  and  Van- 
deroiit  "  pooled  their  interests  with  the  "  Standard  Oil  Com- 
pany," how  they  agreed  to  carry,  and  did  carry  its  oil  at  much 
lower  rates  tlian  tiie  oils  of  other  companies,  and  in  many  cases 
absolutely  refused  to  carry  the  oils  of  the  latter.  It  tells  how, 
by  such  discrimination,  the  fleeciugs  of  the  ••  Standard " 
swelled  to  such  an  extent  that,  starting  witli  a  capital  stock  of 
one  million,  it  paid  to  its  stockholders  a  dividend  of  one  mil- 
lion dollars  a  month,  and  has  now  piled  up  in  undivided  profits 
and  other  forms  a  capital  of  Thirty  trillions.  Truly  a  • -Great 
Monopoly,"  a  ver;/  dangerous  monopoly^  one  should  think,  for 
rennsylv;inia  and  the  public  at  large. 

"Bj' the  same  tactics."' s:l3^s  the  vv.»ter.  ''the  Railroads  can 
give  other  combinations  of  ca~:*;alifits  the  control  of  the  lum- 
ber, cotton,  ii-on  and  coal  of  the  Unitecl  States." 

In  Europe  such  alliances  between  Kailroads  and  corporations 
would  be  imx)ossible.  But  i:i  our  country,  \\\\q\'q  Private  ••  En- 
terprise "  runs  I'amijcints  where  the  ''Let  Alone"  abomination  is 
carried  to  its  highest  logical  pitch,  such  alliances  are  certain 
to  be  a  prominent  feature  of  our  future. 

But  the  evils  which  flow  from  the  something-wrong  in  So- 
ciety is  not  confined  to  wage-workers,  farmers  and  small  em- 
ployers. The  at  present  existing  relations  of  men  constitute 
the  comfortless  mutual  slavery  of  us  all,  as  we  sliail  tlnd, 
wherever  we  turn.  Professional  men  of  every  kind  can.  al-o. 
be  divided  into  those  who  have  and  those  who  have  not;  and 
those  among  them  who  have  not  are  fully  as  bad  ofl' as  the 
wage-workers,  indeed  worse  oft',  for  their  culture  becomes  an 
additional  curse  to  them.  We  will  suppose  such  a  man  has 
talents,  that  he  has  qualified  himself  by  hard  study  for  a  re- 
sponsible fiujction  in  Society,  yet  this  anarcliical  Society  has 


50  SOCIAL  AJVAKCUY. 

no  opening  for  him.  He  perhaps  becomes  a  clerk,  just  as  much 
depejident  on  his  emph)yer  just  as  inuuh  a  hirelinrj  as  the  wage- 
worker  is;  lie  likewise  must  hold  his  tongue,  and  constantl}'- 
be  on  the  lookout  to  preserve  the  lavor  ol' his  august  autocrat, 
while  he  all  the  while  is  doing  the  work  of  others  who  really 
receive  the  pay. 

What  a  spectacle,  for  instance,  does  the  medical  profession 
present!  One  successful  practitioner  we  lind  burdened  with 
more  work  than  mortal  man  can  perform — in  the  surrounding 
streets  twenty  unhappy  men.  eacii  ot  whorn  as  laboriouslj' 
trained,  wasting  their  capabilities,  starving,  perhaps,  for  want. 
Under  better  arrangements  these  twenty  would  form  a  corps 
of  subalterns  under  the  really  ablest  physician — and  not  mere- 
ly the  most  successful  impostor — physicking  people  for  head- 
aches, while  the  latter  treated  only  more  dilficult  cases. 

But  now,  even  in  all  professions,  the  watchword  is,  "  Every 
one  look  out  for  himself  and  the  devil  take  the  hindmost  " — 
all  due  to  Unrestricted  Private  *'  Enterprise.'^'' 

Our  era  may  be  called  the  Jewish  Age.  The  Jews  have, 
indeed,  had  a  remarkable  influpnce  on  our  civilization.  Lonj; 
ago  they  infused  in  our  race  the  idea  of  one  God,  and  now 
they  have  made  our  whole  race  worship  a  new  true  God : 
The  Golden  Calf;  but,  again,  it  is  Jews — such  noble  Jews  as 
Karl  Marx  and  Lassalle — vvho  have  sounded  the  alarm  for  the 
most  determined  battle  agahist  this  very  Jewism.  •'  Jewism." 
to  our  mind,  best  expresses  that  special  curse  of  our  age. 
Speculation.,  the  transterof  wealth  from  others  to  themselves 
by  chicanery  without  giving  an  equivalent. 

If  there  is  one  species  of  gambling  more  despicable  than 
another,  it  is  gambling  in  grain.  The  sales  of  grain  on  our 
Produce-Exchanges  are  merely  gambling  transactions  Cliques 
of  the  wealthiest  men  in  Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  New  York, 
having  behind  them  banks  and  other  moneyed  corporations, 
make  enormous  combinations  of  capital  to  *'  corner ''  the  mark- 
et, locking  up  millions  of  bushels  of  wheat,  and  maintain  fau)- 
ine-prices  in  the  midst  of  plenty.  Their  profits  are  enormous. 
So  are  those  of  another  clique  who  owns  all  pork.  And  where 


SOCIAL  AXARCHY.  51 

do  those  profits  come  from?    From  the  workers,   of  coarse 
from   the  bread-winners,    wJio  tluis  earn  the  support  and  the 
wealth,  not  only  of  their  employers,  their  so-called   "  bread- 
givei's,''''  but  of  those  Vampires  who  use  their  backs  as  the  green 
table  on  which  to  play  their  games. 

The  Vampii-es  are  quite  different  creatures  from  the  para- 
sites we  already  have  treated  of.  The  latter  are  workers,  though 
superfluous  vvorkerg,the  former  are  not  workers  at  all.  Hut 
then,  they  do  not  call  themselves  workers  either,  but — •''  I  usi- 
ness  men."  There  is  quite  a  difference  between  work  and 
business  as  that  word  is  now  comujonly  used.  *'  Work  "  is  ef- 
fort to  satisfy  wants,  and  may  be  cither  useful  or  useless;  but 
"■  business  "  is  effort  to  benefit  by  the  work  of  others^  and  if  that 
*s  to  be  called  '"  work,"  it  is  at  any  rate  mischievous  work;  in 
that  sense  our  criminals,  also,  work  and  generally  pretty  hard. 
'"^y  oik''''  is  being  busy  in  benefit;  "'business"  being  busy  in 
mischief.  Our  parasites  are  useless  workers;  our  Vampires 
are  not  better  than  thieves  and  swindlers. 

On  a  par  with  Speculation  is  much  of  our  ''Traffic."  The 
*•  enterprise  "  of  our  mercantile  *' kings  "  and  "princes"  is 
very  often  but  another  name  for  cliicanery  and  swindling. 
"Suppose,"  John  Kuskin  says,  ^' a  community  of  three  men 
on  an  ishmd.  Two,  the  one  a  farmer  and  the  other  a  mechan- 
ic, are  so  fiir  apart,  that  they  are  wholly  at  the  mercy  of  the 
third  who  travels  between  them,  and  efiects  their  exchanges. 
He  is  constantly  watching  his  opportunities,  and  retains  the 
products  of  the  one  with  which  he  has  been  intrusted 
and  which  are  needed  hy  the  other,  until  there  conies  a  period 
of  extreme  need  for  them  and  he  can  exact  enormous  gains 
from  their  necessities.  It  is  easy  to  see  that,  while  he  may  in 
tliat  way  draw  tlie  whole  wealth  of  the  community  to  him- 
self and  make  liis  principals  his  servants,  he  also  in  fact  di- 
minishes the  amount  of  wealth  by  cramping  the  operations  of 
his  two  customers  and  diminishing  the  effective  results  of  their 
labors.  That  is  Wealth,  acquired  on  the  strict  principles  of 
Political  Economy."  And  the  millions  which  go  into  the  pock- 
ets of  these  mercantile  men  of  ours  as  "  profits  "  are  by  them 
called   reward   for  *' enterprise" '•  compensation  for  risk," — 


52  SOCIAL   ANARCHY. 

Do  we  call  the  gains  of  the  swindler  or  the  robber  "compen- 
sation for  risks?"  Xo,  commerce^  \\'a\z\\  is  the  interchange  of 
commodities,  is  a  most  beneficial  social  activit}^ ;  Traffic,  Trade, 
which,  as  Herbert  Spencer  sa\^s.  is  ••essentially  corrnpt," 
which  partakes  of  the  nature  either  of  gambling  or  overreach- 
ing, is  not 

lliese  Vampires  are  the  offspring  of  the  •'  Let  Alone  "   Policy. 

''  Laissez-faire,"'  '^  Let  alone  " — leave  tlie  upright  at  the  mer- 
cj-'oftlie  cunning;  leave  the  ignorant  to  t;'acli  themselves; 
leave  everyone  vvlio  profits  by  a  corrupt  system  to  make  the 
most  for  himself;  let  Labor  remain  sometliing  wholesale  out 
of  which  fortunes  are  made  and  which  dtiri)ig  that  process 
yields  such  and  such  a  per  ceniage  of  .Misery  and  Sin — what  a 
grand  ^' principle ! ""  B}^  adopting  it  for  its  guiding-star  our 
Society  ha«  achieved — Anarchy, 

Our  comfortable  classes  talk  much  of  "  Social  Order.-''  In 
ancient  Greece  and  Rome  there  was  Social  ••  Order."  such 
as  it  was;  during  part  of  the  Middle  Age,  there  was  Social 
•*  Older."  such  as  it  was.  But  in  our  age  there  is,  as  we  have 
seen,  throughout  our  whole  economic  sphere  no  social  order 
at  all.  There  is  absolute  Social  Anarchy.  It  is  against  this 
Social  Anarchy  that  Socialism,  chielly.  is  a  protest. 

We  have  seen  the  various  phases  of  tins  anarchy,  all  the  le- 
gitimate outgrowth  of  private  ••  enterprise:  " 

All  instruments  of  production  are  monopcdized.  The  evil 
of  this  inonoj^oly  does  not  so  much  consist  in  the  plutocrat 
being  the  undisputed  owner  of  that  which  he  has  acquired 
(Ihe  sum  total  of  which  is  now  so  veiy  inappropriately  called 
National  wealth.)  Though  formed  outof  Meecingsand  in  no  otli- 
er  manner  whatsoever,  lie  can  claim  these  acquisitions  as  his 
property,  because  he  has  got  iiold  of  them  by  the  express  con- 
sent of  Society.  The  evil  lies  in  this,  tliat  he  is  able  and  per- 
mitted to  use  this  property  of  his  to  further  fleece  his  fellow- 
men  out  of  the  proceeds  of  their  toil. 

This  private  enterprise  is  responsible  for  our  crises,  the  in- 
evitable consequences  of  defying  the  natuial  law  of  Solidarity 
between  all  the  members  ot  Society. 


SOCIAL  ANAKCHY.  53 

It  has  produced  our  parasites  and  vampires. 

ft  has  giveu  us  <;onipetition  with  all  its  baneful  conse- 
quences. 

Not  Emulation^  Avhicli  no  Society  can  nfFord  to  do  without, 
the  loss  of  which  would  check  all  advance  and  deaden  ail  en- 
erg}'. 

ijut  Cannibalism,  that  poisonous  tooth  the  extraction  ol 
which  would  immonsely  relieve  sociot.v. 

It  has  put  into  the  hands  of  our  Plutocrats  a  deadlier  club 
than  competition  for  them  to  use  whenever  it  serves  their  pur- 
pose :     Combination  amon*^  themselves. 

It  has  destroyed  all  the  patriarchal,  idyllic  relations  which 
formerlly  existed  among  men  and  left  only  the  one 
relation:  Cash-payment.  It  has  drowned  the  chivalrous 
enthusiasm,  the  pious  idealism  which  existed  in  previous 
ages  in  a  chilly  shower  of  realistic  egotism.  It  has  put  ex- 
change-value in  place  of  personal  hum m  dignity  and  license 
in  place  ot  freedom.  It  has  made  the  physician,  the  juiist,  the 
poet,  the  scientist,  retain^n-s  of  the  Plutocracy.  It  has  made 
marriage  a  commercial  relation  and  prostitution  one  of  the  es- 
tablished institutions  of  ISociety. 

But  let  us  be  fair. 

So  far  we  have  discussed  only  the  evil  workings  of  ''  private 
enterprise."  We  heartily  admit  that,  on  the  other  hand,  it  has 
performed  wonders.  It  h-is  built  monuments  greater  than  the 
pyramids.  Its  Universal  Exposition?  have  moved  greater 
masses  of  men  tnan  the  Crusades  ever  did.  It  has  done  man- 
kind an  immense  service  in  proving  by  hard  facts,  that  wholC' 
sale  manufacture  is  the  most  sensible  form  of  Labor. 

But  we  contend  that  it  now  has  done  all  the  good  it  can, 
that  the  evils  which  ?ioio  llow  from '•private  enterprise"  far 
outweigh  the  benefits  it  confers. 

Tliat  is  why  we  condemn  it.  We  condemn  it  just  as  we  con- 
demn an  old.  decaying  building,  however  useful  it  may  have 
been  in  its  time;  or  as  Nature  condemns  the  cocoon  of  a 
chrysalis,  when  a  butterfly  is  ready  to  be  born. 

But  we  know  full  well  that  "private  enterprise"  will  for  some 
time  yet  go  on  working  mischief.     We  know  it  must    become 


54  SOCIAL   ANARCHY. 

a  good  deal  worse  than  it  is,  before  it  can  become  better. 

But  we  also  know  that  in  the  falhiess  of  time  the  Logic  of 
Events  will,  imperatively,  demand  a  change  from  this  Social 
Anarchy  to  true  Social  Order, 


CHAPTER  m. 


THE      CULMINATION. 


"Real  history  is  a  history  of  tendencies,  not  of  events."— 
Buckle. 

"Nothing  would  lead  the  mass  of  men  to  embrace  Socialism 
sooner  than  the  conviction,  tliat  this  enormous  accumnhition 
of  Capital  in  a  few  hands  was  to  be.  not  only  an  evil  in  fact  if 
not  prevented,  but  a  necessary  evil  beyond  prevention. 

"If  such  a  tendency  should  manifest  itself,  it  would  run 
through  all  forms  of  property.  A  Stewart  or  a  Claflin  would 
root  out  small  trades-people.  Holders  of  small  fiirnis  would 
sink  into  tenants.  The  buildings  of  a  city  would  belong  to  a 
few  owners.  Small  manulacturers  would  have  to  take  pay 
from  mammoths  of  their  own  khid  or  be  ruined.  *  *  *  * 
If  this  went  to  an  extreme  in  a  free  country,  the  'expropriated' 
could  not  endure  it.  They  would  go  to  some  other  country, 
and  leave  the  proprietors  alone  in  the  land,  or  they  would 
drive  them  away.  A  revolution,  slow  or  rapid,  would  cer- 
tainly bring  about  a  new  order  of  things." — "C'omwm/asm  and 
Socialism^'''  by  Dr.  Th.  D.  Woolsey. 


That  Capital— not  "Wealth,''  not  "Property"  but  Capital— 
*n  private  hands  involves  the  dependence  of  the  masses;  that 
wwr  Established  Older  is  nothing  but  Established  Anarchy 


56  THE    CULMINATION. 

are  the  conclusions  we  have  arrived  at.        Will  such  a  state 
of  things  last  forever? 

Here  we  meet  with  one  of  the  greatest  obstacles  with  which 
Socialists  have  to  contend :  the  notion  that  whatever  is,  is  the 
innnutableorder  of  natuVe.  Because  the  wage-system  and  the 
''''  Let-alone  "  policy  now  prevail  and  have  prevailed  as  far  back 
as  any  one  can  remember,  people,  even  well-informed  people, 
fancy  that  this  policy  and  that  system  constitute  the  necessa- 
ry conditions  for  civilized  societ}^  Socialists  hold  that  this 
is  a  fundamental  error.  They  say,  with  all  advanced  scientists, 
that  what  is  has  grown  out  of  something  else  that  was,  and 
that  the  present  is  the  parent  of  the  future.  The  history  of 
our  race  is  a  series  of  preparations. 

In  the  ancient  states  where  the  civilization  of  our  race  com- 
menced there  was  no  wage-system ;  there  was  Slavery.  The 
master  was  lord  of  the  persons  of  his  slaves,  lord  of  the  soil 
and  owner  of  the  instruments  of  labor.  We  who  have  leached 
a  higher  stage  of  development  look  very  properly  back  with 
horror  on  this  ancient  Slavery;  and  yot  we  should  not  forget 
that  we  are  indebted  to  this  same  Slaverj-  for  our  civiiizaLion. 

Progress  takes  place,  only,  when  either  some  individuals 
control  other  individuals,  or  when  they  voluntarily  cooperate 
together.  But  voluntary  cooperation  is  a  hard  lesson  for  men 
to  learn  ;  and,  therefore,  progress  has  to  commence  with  com- 
pulsory cooperation ;  with  control  of  everything, — with  Slav- 
ery. 

Look  at  our  Indian  tribes.  They  work,  in  their  way,  as  well 
as  civilized  people  do.  Yet  they  are  strangers  to  progress. 
Why?  Because  they  never  accumulated  any  wealth.  And 
they  accumulated  no  wealth,  because  they  worked  as  isolated 
individuals;  because  they  never  have  known  any  division  of 
labor.  Now  Slavery  was  to  our  race,  the  first  division  of  labor  ;  it 
was  the  first  form  of  cooperation;  for  it  is  too  often  over- 
looked, that  division  of  labor  is  at  the  same  time  cooperation  in 
labor.  The  ruling  princii)le  during  Slavery  was,  of  course, 
Despotism,  the  irresponsible  will  of  the  lord. 

Feudalism,  and  Serfdom  constitute  the  next  great  period  in 
the  history   of  our  race,  coming  in  contemporaneously  with 


THE    CULMINATION.  57 

the  ascendancy  of  Christianity  and  the  dominion  of  the  nortli- 
crn  barbarians.  Under  it  the  lords  of  the  soil  were  the  dom- 
ijiant  class ;  but  tlie  persons  of  the  workers  were  free,  thougli 
they  were  attached  to  the  soil  wliere  they  were  boi'n.  This 
change  conferred  an  immense  gain  on  the  working  multitude. 
They  were  now  invested  with  the  most  elementary  ri>iht  of  all : 
tliat  of  creating  a  family  for  themselves.  And  their  belong- 
ing to  the  soil  was  far  from  being  altogether  an  evil,  since  h 
conferred  on  them  the  right  to  claim  support  from  the  soil. 

The  ruling  principle  during  that  period  was  Custom^  which 
proved  itself  a  most  efficient  protector  of  the  workers.  It  hxed, 
strictly,  and  in  many  countries  with  the  utmost  particularity 
ill  details,  the  amount  of  work  due  to  their  lord  for  the  use  of 
the  soil,  and  all  other  rights  and  duties  of  every  class  and  in- 
dividual. '•  Freedom ''  during  the  middle  ages  meant  the  en- 
joyment of  those  lights  which  Custom  thus  gave.  It  may 
well  be  a  question,  whether  the  workers  of  that  long  era  were 
not  a  happier  class  than  our  wage-workers. 

During  those  two  stages  of  development  '•  Capital"  was  un- 
known and  unheard  of.  There  was  Wealth,  there  were  I^eve- 
uues.  plenty  of  means  of  enjoyment.  The  great  folks  lived 
in  splendor,  certainly;  but  they  did  not,  and  could  not  cap- 
italize  their  possessions. 

Remember  that  best  of  economic  definitions  of  Capital,  which 
we  adopted  :  "  That  part  of  wealth,  employed  productively, 
with  a  view  to  profit,  by  sale  of  the  produce."  During  Slav- 
ery and  Serfdom  Wealth  was  not  employed  productively  with 
a  vieAV  to  profit,  by  sale  of  the  produce,  but  with  a  view  to 
immediate,  personal  enjoyment.  The  lords  could  not  make 
their  possessions  grow  by  ''  profit,"  by  "fleecings,"  could  not 
invest  them.  They  could  not  levy  tribute  on  anybody  but  their 
own  slaves,  their  own  serfs. 

But  the  progress  of  mankind  demanded  that  another  step 
should  be  taken.  The  iron  bands  of  Custom  had  to  be  sundered 
and  that  is  done  by  an  assertion  of  the  independence  of  the 
individual  in  the  form  of  Unrestricted  Private  Enterprise ;  which 
fructifies  the  germ  of  Capital,  already  found  in  the  previous 
accumulations  of  wealth.    Private   Enterprise    commences, 


58  THE    CULMINATION. 

in  the  closing  years  of  the  Middle  Ages,  by  suddenly  advanc- 
ing commerce  to  an  unprecedented  degree  and  developing  tlie 
Commerce  of  the  World.  It  gives  rise  to  the  discoveries  and 
inventions  \vhi(!ii  now  crowd  upon  each  other ;  foremost  among 
which  are  the  discovery  of  America,  the  invention  of  the  print- 
ing press  and  the  steam  engine.  These  in  their  t.urn  nourish 
Capital.  It  becomes  an  infant,  grows  up  to  youth  and  man- 
liood,  bursts  completely  the  fetters  of  the  Middle  Ages  by  the 
ever  memorable  French  Revolution,  and  has  developed  in  our 
days  into  a  giant  by  division  of  labor  being  carried  to  an  ex- 
tent, not  dreamt  of  before;  or — what  is  the  same  thing — by 
a  greater  cooperation  in  production  than  was    known  before. 

'JMuis  v>'e  have  arrived  at  th'^  thu'd  stage  in  the  development 
of  our  race:  tiiis  era  of  (.'apital  and  Individualism.  Wealth 
during  all  three  periods  governed  the  world,  controlled  the 
masses,  but  never  before  in  the  form  of  Capital.  Our  Plutoc- 
rac3%  our  industrial,  commercial  and  moneyed  aristocracy, 
whom  the  French  called  "•  the  Third  Estate;  "  those  who  by 
the  control  of  the  instiuments  of  labor  have  acquired  the  more 
advantageous  position,  are  now  our  masters,  the  dominant 
power,  who  by  laws  and  usages,  enacted  by  themselves,  have 
made  this  advantageous  position  of  theirs  a  permanent  one. 
'J'he  woikers  have  hardly  occasion  to  rejoice  at  the  change. 
They  ai-e  free  to  own  land,  but  have  not  the  means  to  buy  it. 
They  have  pei'sonnl  liberty,  yes.  They  are  no  longer  bound 
to  the  soil ;  they  have  got  the  barren  legal  right  to  go  where 
they  please.  lint  they  have,  at  the  same  time,  lost  the  right 
to  claim  support  Ii'om  the  soil.  Their  liberty  is  one  that  ben- 
efits their  mastei's,  rathei*  than  themselves.  The  power  of 
discharge  and  the  advantage  of  having  everywheie  an  army 
of  proletarians  to  hire  from,  is  vital  to  the  growth  of  Capital. 
The  workers  have  lost  the  power  they  as  serfs  possessed  to 
labor  to  advantage  for  themselves,  for  in  all  branches  of  in- 
dustry wholesale  production  has  supplanted  domestic  indus- 
try. They  have  <M)oj)eration  in  production  with  a  vengeance 
— think  of  Plugsou  and  his  spinners.  The  division  and  enjoy- 
ment of  the  products  oii  the  other  hand,  is  entirely  onesided. 

Tlie  I'lutocracy,  the  lleecing  class  and  their  retainers,  is  in 


THE   CULMINATION.  59 

this  third  stage  of  our  civilization  the  really  governing  power 
all  over  the  civilized  world.  But  while  it  is  checked,  to  some 
extent,  in  the  European  countries  by  the  i-enmants  of  Feudal- 
ism :  the  nobilit^'-and  clergy,  it  iu  our  countrj'  Is  absolute,  sim- 
pij'"  because  tliis  is  a  new  country.  Here  its  power  is  uncjuos- 
tioned  and  unrestrained.  It  is  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world 
for  it  to  nndntain  its  dominion  here;  for  all  it  has  to  do  is  to 
command  tiie  government :  "leave  us  alone!"  Indeed  our 
governments  may  be  said  to  be  merely  committees  of  our  Tlu- 
tocrats,  charged  with  watcliing  over  their  commoj'   interests. 

Now  observe,  that  Socialists  hold  that  each  of  these  three 
periods,  though  together  forming  a  long  and  weary  road,  was 
yet  a  necessary  link  in  the  chain  of  progress,  was  a  prepara- 
tory step  to  each  succeeding  stage.  We  cannot  accomplish 
the  progress  of  our  race  by  lea])s  but  must  do  it  by  growths. 
We  cannot  dispense  with  anv  of  these  stages.  V^e  could  not 
dispense  with  the  ])resent  reign  of  Individualism  and  Capital. 
If  a  magic  wand  could  restore  the  mode  of  production  in 
vogue  two  liundred  years  ago.  it  would  require  another  two 
centuries  to  mature  the  conditions  for  that  New  Order  which 
lies  in  the  womb  of  time.  And  we  also  hold,  that  history 
is  radically  incomprehensible  without  the  conception,  that  the 
social  state  of  each  epoch  was  just  as  perfect  as  the  corres- 
IDonding  development  of  our  race  permitted.  The  evils,  there- 
fore, of  the  *•  let  alone"  policy  which  we  described  in  the  pre- 
ceeding  chapter  are  to  be  considered  the  legitimate  workings 
of  a  principle  to  which  humanity  iu  times  to  come  will  find  it- 
self greatly  indebted. 

This  conception  ought  to  guard  us  against  feeling  any  ill- 
will  towards  the  individual  members  of  our  Plutocracy. 
Passions  directed  against  the  system  are  most  i^roper;  for  it 
is  only  passion  that  can  nerve  us  sufficiently  to  overthrow  the 
system.  But  our  capitalists  are  as  much  the  creatures  of  circ- 
umstances as  our  paupers  are.  Neither  should  we  forget, 
that  there  have  here  and  there  been  employers  and  capitalists 
wlio  wo  lid  willingly  have  sacrificed  their  all  to  right  socKjty. 
Itobert  Owen  was  the  more  noble  a  man  for  being  rich. 


60  THE    CULMINATION. 

Having  noti  (1  the  principles  and  factors  which  thus  far  have 

shaped  the    destinies   of  our  race,  and  having  seen  how   the 

'  Let-alone"  policy  has  worked,  and  how  it  is  working  at  this 

verj''   daj^,   the  next  inquirj^  niitin-ally  is:    AVhat  will  be   the 

outcome?    How  will  tliis  policy  work  in  the  future? 

Dr.  Theodore  D.  Woolsey.  is  a  very  cautious  man,  as  bone- 
fits  his  profession  and  his  position  as  a  representative  of  our 
luxurious  classes.  He  admits  in  his  ''  Communism  and  Social- 
ism,"  that  '•'tliere  is  some  reason  to  apprehend,  that  the  'free 
use'  ot  private  property  must  end  in  making  a  few  capitalists 
of  enormous  wealth,  and  a  vast  population  of  laborers  de- 
pendent on  them," — if  not  prevented.  This  conclusion  is  not 
due  to  any  flights  of  fancy  or  unseemly  rashness  on  the  gen- 
tleman's pai't,  for  lie  goes  on  to  say  what  we  have  quoted  at 
the  head  of  this  chapter.  If  such  a  tendency  "  should  "man- 
ifest itself,  then  he  thinks,  a  Stewart ''  would  "  root  out  small- 
er trades-people ;  small  producers  '•  would  "  be  ruined  by  mam- 
moths of  their  own  kind  and  the  land  and  houses  of  a  city 
"  would  "  be  more  and  more  monopolized.  We  should  say,  that 
Dr.  Woolsey  is,  if  anything,  over-cautious.  Most  people 
would  be  ready  to  say  outright,  that  those  things  are  daily 
taking  place;  and  that,  thus,  the  tendency  of  the  ''fiee  use 
of  private  property"  is  manifest.  Private  '*•  Enterprise  "  will, 
evidently,  work  in  the  future,  as  it  has  done  in  the  past— ay ! 
it  will  gather  greater  and  greater  momentum — if  not  pre- 
vented. 

Tliat  is  to  say :  Concentration  will  be  the  ord^r  of  the  day 
along  the  whole  line  of  production,  transportation  and  ex- 
change. The  small  farm  will  give  way  to  the  large  one;  the 
small  producer  to  the  wholesale-producer.  The  wholesale 
trade  will  be  more  and  more  concentrated.  All  retail  trade  ot 
any  consequence  in  our  larger  cities  will  be  gathered  togeth- 
er in  huge  bazaars,  after  the  Wanamaker  pattern  in  Philadel- 
phia; they  will  soon  attract  to  themselves  the  customers  of 
the  countr5'-stores  Just  as  the  hardware  factories  ah'oady  now 
do  much  of  the  work,  formerly  done  by  prosperous  cross-roads 
blacksmiths.  The  contract  system  of  erecting  buildings  will 
soon  constitute,  and  constitutes  now  to  a  great  extent,  all  en- 


THE    CULMINATION.  61 

gaged  ill  the  building-trades  a  movable,  disposable  force,  to  be 
hired  now  ])j  this  contractor  and  now  hy  tiuit.  A  few  years 
hence  the  entire  production  and  sale  of  the  anthracite  coal  of 
Pensisylvania — that  is,  of  the  whole  country — will  be  in  the 
hands  of  four  companies:  the  Heading;  the  Lehigh  Valley; 
the  l>)elaware.  Lackawanna  and  Western  and  the  Delaware  and 
Hudson.  In  other  words  four  persons  will  practically  decide, 
liow  much  the  producers  shall  be  paid  and  how  much  the  con- 
sumers shall  be  bled.  Probably  it  will  not  last  long  before 
the  whole  output  will  be  controlled  by  one  corporation. 
The  sngar-retining  business  will  in  a  few  years  be  in  the  hands 
of  a  couple  of  houses.  We  shall  not  have  to  wait  long,  before 
the  whole  railroad-system  of  the  country  is  in  the  hands  of, 
say,  four  companies.  The  Standard  Oil  Com^Dauy  already  con- 
trols the  oil  business,  and  a  few  magnates  now  control  in  one 
corporation  the  whole  telegraphic  S3^stem  of  our  country,  so 
there  the  concentration  is  almost  comi)lete. 

Tlie  last  census  report  demonstrates  conclusively  that  this 
concentration  of  manufactu'^ing  industries  commenced  in  good 
earnest  during  the  last  decade;  while,  as  we  already  have  seen, 
the  number  of  workers  and  values  created  considei-ably  in- 
creased, the  number  of  establishments  was  in  1880  almost  ex- 
actly what  it  was  in  1870. 

Such  complete  centralization  of  all  activities  of  Society  will, 
evidently,  render  the  working-classes  more  dependent  on  their 
masters ;  will  make  it  more  and  more  impossible  for  the  work- 
ingnien  to  control  their  own  conditions.  They  will  have  in- 
dividually, less  and  less,  if  any,  control  as  to  what  shall  be 
their  hours  of  labor  and  what  their  pay.  That  is  clearly  the 
tendency  of  the  working  of  ''  unrestricted  private  enterprise" 
— if  not  pi  evented. 

It  will  pmhaps  be  objected,  that  our  own  figures  do  not  sup- 
port such  an  inference.  The  wages  of  labor  it  will  be  said, 
rose  steadily  from  1850  to  1880;  to  wit:   $218,  .$310  and  $346. 

Tbis  objection  would  be  a  good  instance  of  the  bad  uses  to 
which  the  census-figures  could  be  put.  Tbis  rise  in  uominal 
wages  can  be  accounted  for  on  the  hypotliesis  of  Kicardo. 
Wliile  laying  it  down  that  wages  are  determined  by  the  cost 


62  THE    CULMINATION. 

of  living,  he  took  occasion  to  observe  that  wages  would  prob- 
ably steadily  rise,  because  tlie  prices  of  provisions  bad  a  tend- 
ency continually  to  rise.  It  is  impossible  to  say  whether  there 
has  been  a  real  rise  in  wages  before  we  know  bow  manj'-  of 
the  necessaries  and  decencies  of  life  a  given  sum  would  buy 
in  the  respective  years. 

But  note  that  ourtigures  in  the  1st  chapter  for  the  year  1870 
were  all  reduced  to  a  gold  basis,  as  the  value  for  the  three  oth- 
er census-3'ears  were  gold-values.  The  workman,  then,  who 
in  1870  received  the  average  yearly  wage  of  $310  in  fact  got 
$388  in  currency.  Now  it  provisions  and  many  other  com- 
modities were  not  dearer  in  1870  than  in  1880 — as  we  think  is 
the  fact — then,  «  omparing  these  two  fairly  prosperous  years 
with  each  other,  there  has  been  an  absolute  fall  in  wages. 

Again,  we  do  not  suppose  that  this  comx:>lete  dependence  of 
the  working-class  on  the  employing  class  will  take  place  be- 
fore the  concentration  of  the  social  activities  is  complete. 
When  that  time  arrives,  tlie  workingmen  will  have  the  screws 
applied  to  them  quickly  enough,  and  they  will  lind  out  the 
fact  by  themselves. 

That  consummate  advocate  and  retainer  of  our  fleecers — 
we  again  use  this  word  simply  as  a  term  of  description,  to  em- 
phasize a  fact, — Wm.  M.  Evarts.  saw  the  point  clearly  when 
serving  them  in  the  office  of  national  .Secretary  of  State,  and 
coolly  said  in  an  official  document : 

"The  lirst  great  truth  to  be  learned  by  manufacturers  (^sic) 
and  workingmen  is  that  the  days  of  high  wages  are  gone.  In 
the  near  future  the  workingmen  of  New  York  cannot  expect 
twice  or  three  times  the  wages  of  his  fellow-worker  in  Eu- 
rope, nor  can  the  coal-miner  of  Pennsylvania  expect  twice  the 
wages  of  the  Northumberland  miner." 

Thus  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  doubt  that  the  enormous  ac- 
cumulation of  wealth  in  the  hands  of  a  few  capitalists,  and  a 
vast  population  of  laborers  dependent  on  them  will  be  *•'  an  evil 
in  fact — if  not  prevented."    But  can  it  be  prevented? 

One  of  the  proposed  ''  remedies  "  is  the  extention  of  our 
foreign  markets. 


THE    CULMINATION.  63 

This  is  a  "remedy"  which  our  fleecers,  our  plutocrats, 
guarantee  as  aa  infallible  curefor  Dr.  Woolsey's '■' evil."  in 
other  words  for  the  discontent  of  the  working-classes.  It  must 
be  admitted  that  they  seek  for  that  ••  remedy  '•  with  a  remark- 
able zeal  and  pertinacity ;  and  not  alone  our  plutocrats,  but 
the  plutocrats  of  all  capitalist  countries  as  well.  To  get  hold 
of  the  panacea  their  governments,  i,  e.  their  governing  com- 
mittees, write  bushels  of  diplomatic  notes  and  protests  (re- 
member the  American  protests  against  prohibiting  the  impor- 
tation of  American  pork  into  Germany  and  France,)  annex 
or  conquer  half-civilized  countries,  shake  up  by  the  roar  of 
cannon  the  sleeping  Chinese,  encourage  tlie  building  of  rail- 
ways in  Mexico  and  incursions  Into  the  heart  of  Africa;  in 
brief,  penetrate  into  and  ransack  with  feverish  and  frantic  en- 
ergy every  nook  and  corner  of  the  globe,  whore  human  beings 
are  found  that  can  be  coaxed  or  driven  to — trade. 

Our  own  Evarts  spent  much  of  his  time  and  energy  as  Sec- 
retary of  State  in  hunting  after  these  foreign  markets.  What- 
ever motive  our  plutocrats  may  pretend  in  pursuing  their  ob- 
ject— and  we  shall  soon  see  that  they  have  an  excellent  motive 
on  their  own  account — Mr.  Evarts  cannot  very  well  pretend 
solicitude  for  the  working-classes  after  the  "•  advice  "  he  gave 
them — and  our  manufacturers — which  we  just  now  quoted.  It 
was  also  Mr.  Evarts  w^ho,  to  fortify  his  advice,  caused  our 
consuls  in  other  countries  to  prepare  reports  for  the  State  De- 
partment about  the  wages  paid  to  foreign  workers,  which 
were  mis-leading,  and  afterwards  were  published  to  show  our 
workingmtju  that  they  were  altogether  too  well  off. 

But  no  matter  what  the  motive  was  and  is,  this  cry :  For, 
eign  Markets,  is  very  characteristic,  indeed,  of  the '' states- 
manship" of  these  plutocrats  who  rule  us— of  these  ''Rulers 
w  ho  are  no  r  ilers,"  in  Carlyle's  language.  It,  like  all  their 
other  public  measures,  proves  them  the  vcri-^st  quacks,  in  thia 
that  it  shows  that  they  are  satisfied  \vith  some  temporary  a^I- 
vantages,  without  considering  the  ulterior  consequences.  For 
to  anybody  wdio  takes  into  account  the  immediate  future  these 
efforts  to  secure  foreign  markets  must  on  a  little  reflection 
appear,  as  a  writer  in  the  Atlantic  Monthly  for  Oct.  1S79    ealla 


(54  THE    CULMINATION. 

them,  "  the  madOest  of  all  follies." 

Because,  supposing  Ave  could  secure  them,  we  could  not  pos- 
sibly hold  them.  The  nations  whose  custom  we  are  soliciting, 
even  China,  Japan  and  Ilindostan,  are  even  now  adopting  all 
onr  inventions  and  improvements,  and  are  fast  learning  to 
manufacture  for  themselves. 

Because  to  secure  them,  we  have  to  manufacture  cheaper 
than  any  other  nation ;  that  is,  we  have  to  lower  tlie  wages  and 
lengthen  the  working  day  of  oar  operatives.  Well,  that,  of 
course,  does  not  disconcert  Mr.  Evarts.  But  now  comes  the 
point.  England  and  all  other  compeLing  nations  will,  on  the 
same  i)rinciple,  try  to  oust  us  by  manufacturing  still  cheaper. 
It  is,  tluis,  only  by  co?ia'«Ma???/ lowering  the  reraumeration  of 
our  worko'S,  even  below  the  starvation  wages  of  Europe,  that 
we  could  possibly  hold  on  to  our  ''  supremacy,"  even  tempor- 
arily. And  then  how  contemptible  a  supremacy!  Carlyle's 
words  should  be  a  fitting  rebuke :  '•  Sad,  indeed,  that  our  na- 
tional existence  depends  on  our  selling  manufactured  cotton 
a  farthing  cheaper  than  any  other  i^eople." 

Because,  lastlj^,  it  is  anyway  a  losing  business.  As  the 
wages  of  our  operatives  decrease,  their  power  of  consumption 
decreases.  Foreign  markets  can.  therefore,  only  be  obtained 
at  the  cost  of  losing  our  home-trade.  The  writer,  mentioned 
above,  computes,  that  thus  far,  we  have  lost  ten  dollars  in  do- 
,mestic  trade  to  every  dollar  gained  in  foreign  trade. 

P'oreign  markets,  thus,  truly  mean:  grasping  at  a  shadow, 
even  to  our  plutocrats.  And  that  it  is  worthless  as  a  ''  reme- 
dy "  against  Woolsey's  *'  evil "  is  ipso  facto  apparent. 

A  second  *•  remedy"  is  the  voluntary  individual  coopera- 
tion, advocated  by  the  English  economist,  Prof.  Cairnes,  and 
which  has  become  almost  a  hobby  of  so  many  reformers. 

Trof.  Cairnes  is  a  man  we  must  respect.  He  has  got  a  clear 
conception  of  the  condition  of  the  laboring  classes: 

"  The  conclusion  to  which  I  am  brought  is  this,  that,  un- 
equal as  is  the  distribution  of  wealth  alieady,  the  tendency  of 
ijidustrial  progress — on  the  supposition,  that  the  present  sep- 
aration between   individual  classes  is  maintained — is  towards 


THE    CULMINATION.  65 

an  inequality  greater  stilL 
And  unlike  Evarts  he  is  anxious  to  raise  them: 
*-Tlie  first  and  indispensable  step  toward  any  serious  amend- 
ment of  the  laborer's  lot  is  that  he  should  be,  in  one  way   or 
anotlier.  lifted  out  of  the  groove,  in  which  he  at  present  works, 
and  be  placed  in  a  i:)osiiion  compatible  with   his  becoming  a 
gharer  in  equal  proportion  with  others  in  the  general  advan- 
tages, arising  from  industrial  progress.  *  *  * 
''  The  laborer  shall  cease  to  be  a  mere  laborer." 
But  the  way  he  indicates,  '•  that  the  workmen  contribute  of 
their  savings  towards  a  common  fund  which  they  employ  as 
capital  and  cooperate  in  turning  to  profit,"  is,  decidedly,   not 
the  way  to  solve  the  problem. 

In  the  first  place  it  should  be  apparent  to  a  man  like  Prof. 
Cairnes,  that  it  is  like  mocking  the  laboring  classes  to  suggest 
to  them,  to  start  productive  enterprises,  in  competition  wjth 
capitalists.  Fancy  them  contemplating  the  millions  needed 
to  build  factories,  to  buy  machinery  and  lay  in  raw  materials, 
and  then  feeling  in  their  own  pockets  and  finding  them  empty ! 
How  can  workme:i  save  anything,  when  their  wages  vibrate 
around  the  point  of  necessaries  of  life?  And  suppose,  that  they 
by  adding  together  their  pennies  do  start  some  factory  or  other, 
how  can  they,  possi'jly,  succeed  in  enterprises  that  require 
more  and  more  capital;  where  Capitalists  with  experience 
fail? 

But  admit  that  such  associations  here  and  there  have  suc- 
ceeded and  that  others  therefore  likewise  might  succeed,  it 
yet  leaves  the  kernel  of  the  Labor-question  untouched.  These 
successful  associations  are  brilliant  examples  of  workingmen 
raising  themselves  out  of  their  class,  not  raising  their  clais. 
They  are  not  truly  cooperative  but  virtually  joint-stock  com- 
panies. They  compete  among  themselves  just  as  ordinary 
concerns  do.  They  (the  Eochdale  Pioneers/,  i.,  who  of  late 
are  an  industrial  as  well  as  mercantile  association)  hire  and 
fleece  laborers  after  the  approved  fashion  of  the  age,  and  ex- 
perience teaches  that  they  are  indeed  the  hardest  tas^vUiasters. 
The  interest  of  the  members  of  these  associations  becomes 
identified  with  Capital,  and  if  ever  circumstances  should  make 


66  THE    CULMINATION. 

it  easior  for  the  smarter  laborers  to  start  sii3li  companies  suc- 
cessfully, that  fact  would  create  a  Ldbor-caste.  In  a  general 
dispute  between  Labor  and  Capital  these  associations,  instead 
of  bein^^  a  vanguard  of  Lnbor.  will  go  over  to  the  side  of  Cap- 
ital. The  sons  of  Rochdnle  Pioneers,  living  in  luxury  and  im- 
itating th<^  airs  and  fashions  of  the  wealthy  of  all  tiniess,  point 
Ihe  moral.  Where  is,  then,  the  gain  to  the  laboring  classes  to 
come  in?  No,  instead  of  advising  Avorkingmen  to  save,  an:l 
to  invest  their  savings  in  such  risky  enterprises,  it  would  ])e 
much  better  to  advise  them  to  put  their  savings  into  their  own 
flesh  and  bone,  where  they  of  light  belong  on  account  of 
their  more  efficient  labor. 

Voluntary  Cooperation  in  enterprises  of  consumption  h  quite 
another  thing.  Such  have  in  many  instances  succeeded.  They 
can  succeed,  because  they  require  no  very  laige  amount  of 
Capital.  And  Socialists  very  often  advise  workingmen.  where- 
ever  and  whenever  they  can.  to  start  cooperative  stores  and 
thus  get  better  goods  and  save  the  profits,,  otherwise  going  to 
the  middlemen.  It  is  in  other  words,  a  very  prudent  thing  to 
do  for  the  inclivichial. 

But  liow  will  it  help  the  body  of  workingmen?  Evidently, 
it  could  only  do  so,  when  the  whole  body,  or  at  least  a  large 
majority  of  them  became  the  beneficiaries  of  such  coopera- 
tion. It  is  curious,  that  an  economist  like  Prof.  Cairnes  does 
not  foresee  the  necessary  consequences. 

In  such  case,  of  course,  the  average  wages  requisite  for  a 
given  standard  of  living  and  comfort  would  become  less  and 
consequently — for  Prof.  Cairnes  admits  the  law  of  wages  of 
Ricardo  and  the  Socialists — would  fall  to  the  new  level.  The 
workmen  thus  would  be  no  better  off  than  befoi-e.  Next, 
what  would  become  of  the  small  traders  and  shop-keepc  s, 
thus  displaced?  They,  naturally,  would  be  ruined.  They  eith- 
er would  have  to  become  a  burden  on  the  comnumity,  or  fall 
into  the  ranks  of  the  wage-workers,  and  thus  contribute  to 
lowering  the  rate  of  v/ages  still  more  by  their  frantic  com|ie- 
tition.  The  writer  ot  this  once  heard  a  small  trader  in  a  wej^l- 
ern  town  bitterly  upbraiding  the  grangtns,  who  had  starteJ 
one  of  their  cooperative  stores  at  his  place,  because  of  theii 


THE    CULMINATION.  67 

meanness.      They  ought  to  *' live  and  let  live."    Was  he  so 
very  unreasonable? 

8uch  voluntary  Cooperation  may  be  very  excellent  for  the 
individual,  just  as  long  as  it  is  a  sporadic  phenomenon — no 
longer. 

A  third  "  remedy,"  firmly  relied  upon  by  another  class  of 
Labor-reformers,  to  check  the  increasing  power  of  the  cap- 
italist-and  employing  class  is  the  formation  and  strength- 
ening of  Trades-unions  and  the  legal  enactment  of  a  normal 
working-day;  two  objects  which  may  be  said  always  to  go 
hand  in  hand. 

We  and  all  Socialists,  indeed,  have  nothing  but  commenda- 
tion for  and  active  sympathy  with  every  effort  that  is  made  to 
bind  all  the  workers  of  the  various  crafts  together,  and  to  gathei* 
these  crafts  again  into  greater  unions.  These  Tiades-unions 
and  Trades-assemblies  are  powerful  instruments  for  educating 
their  members  for  the  coming  Social  Order,  wiiether  they  are 
aware  of  it  or  not;  in  another  connexion  we  shall  have  more 
to  say  on  that  point.  'J'hey  impress  vividly  on  their  mem- 
bers the  fact,  that  their  inierests  are  mutual,  and  that  their 
employers,  far  from  being  identified  witli  them,  are  diametri- 
cally opposed  to  them  in  interests.  They  open  the  eyes  of 
their  members  to  the  fact,  that  their  masters  are  not  wage- 
givers  but  take  wages  from  them;  that  their  mnsters  do  not 
suport  them  but  that  they  support  their  masters. 

Again,  while  Ave  do  not  recommend  strikes — what  the  Trades- 
unions,  indeed,  are  also  far  from  doing — we  accept  them  as 
necessary  evils.  We  claim  that  as  a  matter  of  fact  (what  Wv? 
have  alreadj^  stated)  there  is  an  existing  w^arfare  between 
capitalists  and  laborers,  and  that  strikes  are  simply  the  skirm- 
ishes in  that  warfare.  Strikes  are  the  efforts  of  wares  to 
act  like  men. 

We  also  hold  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  eight  hours  of  hard 
daily  work,  is  asufficie  jt,  more  than  a  sufficient,  task  for  a 
mere  living. 

But  we  are  at  the  same  time  convinced  'that  Trades-unions 
and  all  these  efforts  of  theirs  are  absolutely  impotent  to  coun- 


// 


68  THE    CULMINATION. 

tc'iact  the  workings  of  •"  unrestricted  private  enterprise." 

Tlie  Trades-unions  of  England  have  i:ideedsueeeeded  in  rais- 
ing the  wages  in  various  trades  and  shortening  tlie  daily  toil — 
yes.  thry  and  they  only,  liavc  succeeded  in  procuring  for  the 
English  working-classes  the  great  boon  of  a  nine-hours 
working  day, — hut  only  because  the  masters  liave  not  combined 
sufficientl}'.  Strikes  must  necessarll}'"  fail,  if  due  resistance 
be  made,  because  the  immedinte  effect  of  them  is  to  deprive 
the  worker  of  his  means  of  subsistence,  and  the  capitalist  of 
his  profit  sini[)iy.  "When  ''  wares  '■  try  to  act  like  men,  they 
uaturail^?"  fail,  for  wares  are  only  things. 

And  suppose  the  Trades-union  movement  of  England  to  ac- 
complish its  ultimate  object:  that  of  uniting  all  the  workers 
of  all  the  trades  of  Great  Britain  into  one  compact,  compre- 
hensive body,  the  result  will  evidently  be,  that  the  employers 
and  capitalists  will  be  compelled  to  follow  suit;  that  is,  such 
a  union  of  workingmen  will  call  into  existence  a  Power,  that 
can  crush  them  at  the  first  trial  of  strength. 

The  writer  of  this  is,  furthermore,  decidedly  of  the  opinion 
that  the  efforts  to  establish  in  our  countiy  by  law  a  normal 
working  day  of  eight  hours  will  prove  equally  futile. 

We  shall  not  enlarge  upon  the  point,  that  one  state  of  the 
Union  cannot  afford  to  establish  it.  except  all  states  do  so; 
that  therefore  national  legislation  is  the  only  object  worth 
striving  for.  But  what  sort  of  legislation?  Our  Congress  and 
some  local  legislatures  have  i)assed  laws  which  lix  eight  hours 
as  a  working  day  for  government  employees  and  which  pro- 
vide, or  at  least  imply,  that  the  same  wages  shall  be  paid  for 
the  eight  as  formerly  for  the  ten  hours.  xVll  friends  of  an 
eight-hour  law  agree  as  to  the  proi)riety  and  expediency  of 
these  statutes,  and  chiim.  that  if  honestly  enforced,  they  will 
by  the  example  they  set  lead  — nay,  compel— prlvateemploy- 
ers  to  follow  suit. 

Have  they  done  that  so  far?  Some  of  the  noolest  and  most 
unselfish  of  martyrs  witness  by  their  gray  hairs  or  the  broken 
heiirts  with  which  they  have  gone  to  their  graves,  that  these 
st.'ituLes  have  had  no  such  effect,  that  they  have  had  no  effect 
ai  all ;  that  they  have,  indeed,  been  nothing  but  dead  Ictterg. 


THE    CULMINATION.  C9 

Ah,  but  if  they  h;id  been  enforced,  it  would  have  been  differ- 
ent, it  hi  said.  May  it  not  bo  that  there  is  one  underlying  rea- 
son, why  they  have  not  been  enforced  and  why  they  could 
not  have  affected  other  laborers  if.  perchance,  they  had  been 
enforced?  The  point  is,  that  the  less  does  not  include  the 
greater.  Under  the  Established  Order  our  national  Govern- 
ment and  all  state  govei'nments  are  on  exactly  the  same  foot- 
ing as  private  parties  and  the  employment  they  give  is  but  :\ 
small  part  of  all  employments.  It  is  therefore  the  rate  of  wages 
paid  in  private  employments  and  the  iiours  of  labor  obtaining 
thei-e  wliieh.  as  long  as  this  system  lasts,  will  regulate  public 
employments,  and  not  reversely.  To  hope  that  it  will  be  oth- 
erwise is  Utopian. 

There  are  more  radical  eight-hour  men,  among  them  many  So- 
cialists, who  agitate  for  an  enactment  to  the  effect,  that  all  pri- 
vate employers  who  work  tlieir  men  more  than  eight  hours  a 
day  (^and  presumably,  that  all  wage-workers  who  work  more 
than  that  number  of  hours)  shall  be  punished  in  a  certain  way. 
They  do  not  care  whether  anything  is  provided  about  wages, 
arguing  that,  if  eight  hours  become  a  normal  work-day.  wages 
will  soon  rise  to  their  former  level,  all  other  things  being  equal, 
— in  wliicli  we  agree  with  them.  But  it  seems  to  be  entirely 
overlooked  in  all  di«!Cussions  on  such  an  enactment  of  a  na- 
tional chai'acter,  that  it  requires  a  constitutional  amendment. 
We  for  our  part  believe  that  we  might  just  as  soon  expect  to 
have  this  nation  changed  into  a  So'^ialist  Commonwealth  by  a 
constitutional  amendment,  passed  in  the  constitutional  waj', 
as  such  a  com^wZsor?/ eight-hour  la  vv.  But  we  need  say  nothing 
further  here,  for  we  are  discussing  the  workings  of  unrestricU 
ed  private  enterprise,  of  the  *'/ree  use  "  of  private  property. 
Only  one  word  more.  It  may  be  objected  that  we  admitted 
that  the  Trades-Unions  of  England  did  obtaia  a  nine-hour 
work-day  in  England;  and  that  in  many  of  our  states  a  ten- 
hour  law  prevails  and  is  obeyed.  'J'here  is  perhaps  a  misap- 
prehension here.  There  is  neither  here  nor  in  England  any  Ic^ 
gal  normal  working-day  for  men.  Whatever  legal  restriction 
exists    applies  to  women  and  children  exclusively,  and  as  to 

them   even  only,   when  they  are  working  m  factories.    The 


70  THE    CULMINATION. 

English  Trades-Unions  did  succeed,  for  the  time  being,  in  wrest- 
ing from  their  employers  their  consent  to  a  nine-hour  work- 
day, simply  because  at  the  time  the  market-demand  exceeded 
the  suj)ply. 

A  fourth  "I'emedy,"  advocated  by  the  Greenback-party — of 
whose  doctrines  we  shall  have  more  to  say  in  another  place — 
ift  that  the  Government  should  advance  to  its  citizens  all  the 
capital  they  may  be  in  need  of,  at  a  very  low  rate  of  interest, 
say  one  per  cent.  This  "remedy,"  which  was  also  the  hob- 
by of  Proudhon,  we  can  dismiss  with  a  very  few  words.  Even 
if  it  were  not  impossible,  what  it  is  as  we  shall  afterwards  see, 
it  would  not  help  the  masses  in  tlie  least.  The  propoition  be- 
tween wages  and  lleecings  in  our  "'  cakes"  remains  the  same, 
whether  interest  is  large  or  small.  The  reduction  of  interest 
wculd  simply  increase  the  6a?ance -of  fleecings  which  go  to 
profit  and  rent.  Such  a  measure,  if  practicable,  would  thus 
only  benefit  the  employing  class,  the  sniall  producer  and  mer- 
chant, and,  possibly,  the  landowners. 

But  then,  the  Greenback-party  is  a  mlddle-class-part}^  that 
is  to  say:  a  reactionary  part}^  as  l^rouuhon  was  a  reactionist; 
for  the  middle-class  (what  we  in  America  call  the  ••  middle- 
class"  and  the  English  the  "  lower  middle-class  ")  is  doomed 
to  extinction. 

Tims  it  truly  seems.  Dr.  Woolsey!  that  "this  enormous 
accumulation  of  Capital  in  a  few  hands  "  is  to  be  a  '•  necessary 
^vil,  beyond  prevention!"  It,  undoubtedly,  will  "run  througli  all 
the  forms  of  propertj'-."  Our  manufacturers,  our  mcreiiant 
"  prince*,"  our  transporters,  our  money  lenders,  and.  linallj', 
our  land  owners  will  go  on  dwiijdling  in  numbers,  as  they 
swell  in  size.  The  millionaires  will  gobble  up  the  Cap- 
ital of  the  whole  middle-class,  and  the  more  their  own  pos- 
sesssions  grow,  the  wilder  will  be  their  chase  after  the 
smaller  game.  Our  working  classes,  on  the  other  hand,  u'ill 
go  on  being  gathered  into  larger  centres.  There  is  no  '-if  at 
all  about  the  matter  and  there  is,  absolutely,  no  patent  med- 
icine in  the  market  that  can  prevent  it. 


THE   CULMINATION.  71 

But  is  it  philosophical  to  call  that  "  an  evi7,"  Dr.   "Woolsey; 

When  a  child  is  growing  its  teeth  it  is,  we  know,  a  season 
of  misery  to  it :  yet  we  do  not  therefore  call  the  process  of 
teething  an  "  evil."  What  if  the  present  and  future  workings 
of  '*  capitalism,''  that  is  of  the  ''  free  use  "  of  Capital  were  the 
teething  period  of  Society?  We  know,  of  course,  that  the 
parallel  is  imperfect ;  for  there  is  this  terrible  difference,  that 
in  the  latter  case  the  suffering  of  myriads  of  sentient  beings 
is  involved,  for  which  reason  the  agitation  for  shortening  the 
daily  toil  and  all  other  eff'orts  to  alleviate  the  condition  of  the 
working-classes  are  worthy  of  all  our  sympathy. 

Just  as  the  teething  process  runs  its  course  according  to  the 
physical  laws  of  our  organization,  and  must  run  its  course,  so 
the  centralization  of  all  social  activities  goes  on  according  to 
laws  indwelling  in  our  social  organism,  and  to  stop  it.  if  we 
could,  would  be  turning  back  th.)  wheels  of  progress.  This  is 
the  consolation  lelt  to  the  self-sacrificing  eight-hour  agitators 
for  tlie  failure  of  their  efforts.  For  there  is  no  doubt  that,  if 
they  could  succeed,  the  wage-workers  would  be  rendered  al- 
most satisfied  with  their  lot  as  wage-slaves,  be  reconciled  to 
the  wage-s?/s«em,  just  wiiat  the  partial  success  of  the  Trades- 
Unions  in  England,  unfortunately,  seems  to  have  done  with 
the  British  wage-workers. 

AVhen  the  culmination  is  reached,  then  comes  the  dawn. 

And  what  will  be  the  culmination? 

That  the  Established  Order  will  be  dying  of  exhaustion. 
This  conclusion  lay  indeed,  potentially,  in  our  exposition  of 
''Value"  in  chapter  I,  wherefore  we  also  there  called  it  the 
c7 'Mnother-idea"  of  Socialism.  Since  all  real  Values  are  the 
results  of  Labor,  and  since  Labor  under  our  wage-system,  our 
profit-system,  our  fleecings-sy stem, only  receives  about  one- 
half  thereof  as  its  share,  it  follows  that  the  producers  cannot  buy 
back  that  which  they  create. 

^ow  \YQ  can  see,  that  this  wage-system  concerns  the 
whole  Nation,  and  not  merely  the  wage-workers,  as  we 
for  argument's  sake  granted  at  the  commencement  of  Chapter 
U.  For  the  more  Capital  is  being  accumulated  in  private 
hands,  the  more  impossible  this  wage-system  renders  it  for  th« 


72  THE    CULMINATION, 

producers  to  buy  what  they  produce.  The  more  necessary 
it  becomes  for  capitalists  to  dispose  of  their  ever  increasing 
tleecings,  the  less  tiie  ability  of  the  people  to  purchase  them 
will,  relatively,  become.  The  greater  the  supply"  the  smaller  the 
consumption.    The  more  Capital,  the  more  "  overproduction." 

This  is  a  fatal  contradiction.  This  ''  Individualism  "  which 
has  created  and  nourished  Capital  and  is  making  it  bigger  and 
bigger,  is  at  the  same  time  digging  the  grave  of  Capital. 

The  logic  of  the  upholders  of  the  present  Social  Order,  when 
they  fancy  it  will  last  forever,  or  hope,  that  it,  like  its  prede- 
cessors, will  last  for  a  thousand  years,  is  sadly  at  fault.  Slavery 
and  Serfdom  were  long-lived,  because  they  rested  on  broad 
endurable  foundations,  so  that  they  had  a  chance  to  petrify  ; 
their  nature,  in  other  words,  was  stabilit'j .  But  our  Social  Or- 
der cannot  exist  without  repeated  industrial  revolutions :  its 
very  nature  is  insecurity  and  movement.  It  can  be  fitly  compared 
to  a  spinning  top  which  only  is  saved  from  toppling  over  by 
being  made  to  turn  swiftly  about  on  its  apex.  It  is  unrestrict- 
ed Private  Enterprise  which  imparts  to  our  Social  Order  this 
wild  movement.  But  just  as  the  top  is  sure  to  finally  topple 
over,  so  is  this  Social  Order  of  oui  s. 

That  is  the  '-Logic  of  Events."  That  events  have  logic 
simply  means,   that  *•*  statesmen  "  and  *•  leaders"  have  none. 

And  we  have  no  need  of  trusting  to  logic;  we  need  only 
trust  our  senses.  Any  one  who  has  eyes  to  see  can  perceive 
this  Social  Order  tottering,  not  alone  in  our  own  country,  but 
in  all  industrial  countries.  Do  we  not  htrar  from  everywhere 
the  cry  of  the  fleecers  :  ''Foreign  markets!  ^y^i  imist  have 
foreign  markets !?"  Did  we  not  say  that  the  fleecers  had  ex- 
cellent reasons  of  their  own  for  hunting  for  them?  This  cry 
is  the  first  frantic  death-gasp  of  Capitalism,  showing  it  is  dying 
of  inanition.  What  better  evidence  need  we?  Socialists  might 
simply  fold  their  arms  and  calmly  await  its  dissolution.  Thus 
our  plutocrats,  who  a  hundred  years  ago  untied  the  fetters 
that  bound  all  industrial  and  social  relations  in  their  unyield- 
ing embrace,  now  iind  themselves  in  the  position  of  the  ma- 
gician who  unloosed  the  elemental  forces  of  Nature,  and  after- 
wards,  not   being  able  to  control  them,  was  overwhelmed  by 


THE    CULMINATION.  73 

them. 

\ye  are  approaching  tho  culmination  with  giant  strides,  with 
raih-oad  speed,  in  fact.  Every  invention  that  renders  produc- 
tion Oil  a  smaller  scale  more  unprotitahle,  every  bankruptcy, 
every  so-called  "  crisis  "  brings  us  nearer  to  the  end. 

Then  will  come  the  real '-  crisis.''''  We  do  not  say  it  will  not 
come  before;  but,  if  not  before,  it  will  surely  come  Avith  the 
culmination. 

And  then,  what? 

Well,  Political  Economy  cannot  tell  us;  it  came  in  with  the 
present  Social  order,  and  it  will  go  out  with  it ;  its  whole  scope 
is  to  bring  the  present  social  arrangements  into  a  system. 

Only  Socialism  can  lift  the  veil  of  the  future,  for  it  only  con- 
templates this  Social  Order  and  the  whole  previous  history  of 
our  race  with  a  philosophic  eye.  Therefore  it  can  predict  with 
the  same  claim  to  certainty,  with  which  the  Signal  Service  Bu- 
reau predicts  to-morrow's  weather. 

There  are  two  alternatives.  Barbarism  may  be  the  outcome. 
But  we  do  uot  believe  it  will. 

Thoughtful  men  observe  that  there  never  before  was  diffusec 
through  society  so  large  a  sense  of  unhappiness.  Our  large 
accessions  and  acquisitions  of  comfort  have  enhanced  and  ag- 
gravated our  ideas  of  poverty.  Capitalists,  for  their  own  pur- 
poses, have  taught  the  masses  a  thousand  needs,  and  at  the  | 
same  time  rendered  it  impossible  for  them  to  satisfy  these  needs.  / 
Society  is  Irom  top  to  bottom  seized  by  discontent — next  to 
hope  the  gi  eatest  gift  from  the  gods  to  man. 

There  is  an  old  saga  of  a  King  and  Queen  to  whom  a  fair 
son  was  born.  Twelve  fairies  came  to  the  christening,  each 
with  a  gift.  A  noble  presence,  wisdom,  strength,  beauty- 
all  were  poured  upon  him  until  it  seemed  he  must  excel  all 
moi  tal  men.  Then  came  the  twelfth  fairy  with  the  gift  of  dis- 
content, but  the  angry  father  turned  away  the  lairy  and  her 
gift.  And  the  lad  grew  apace,  a  wonder  of  perfect  powers; 
but,  content  in  their  possession,  he  cared  to  use  them  for  neith- 
er good  nor  ill;  there  was  no  eagerness  in  him  ;  good-natured 
and  quiet,  he  let  life  use  him  as  it  would.  And  at  last  the  King 


74  THE    CUOIINATION. 

knew  that  the  rejected  hadbeen  thecrowninoj  gift. 

Again,  the  mas  ses  are  becoming  more  and  more  intelligent, 
too  intelligent  to  submit  to  a  new  slavery,  or  a  new  serfdom. 
The  working-masses  now  feel  themselves  human  beings  and 
have  become  conscious  of  their  power;  their  concentration  in 
large  centres  of  industry  has  given  them  that  consciousness, 
which,  perhaps,  will  make  them  too  impatient  to  await  the  ti- 
iial  crash. 

And  then — we  Socialists  have  now  been  horn  into  the  worlds  a 
guarantee,  that  Society  will  go  forward,  not  backwards. 

The  other  alternative  is  Dr.  Woolsey's :  *••  that  a  revolution^ 
slow  or  i-api(l,  loill  certainly  bring  about  a  new  order  of  things^ 
There  we  agree  with  him. 

Whatever  is,  is  noaiieinuuutable  order  of  nature.  It  is  very 
n:;tural  that  our  well-to-do  classes  should  believe  that  arrange- 
ments wliich  suit  t'lem  have  been  settled  by  some  law  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians !  nevertheless  when  these  arrangements 
h:;ve  done  their  work  they  are  destined  to  disappear.  But 
whatever  is,  is  rational.  It  exists,  because,  and  so  long  as  it  ful- 
fills some  U'^eful  office. 

Private  ^Enterprise  has  done  civilization  excellent  service,  but 
after  liaving  run  this  Social "'  Order"  into  the  ground  it  will 
be  supplanted  by  a  new  principle:  Social  Cooperation^  up  to 
which  the  whole  Martyrdom  of  Man  during  his  whole  previ- 
ous history  h^s  been  training  ns.  "  Individualism.''  a  rhythmi- 
cal swing  of  the  human  mind,  will  then  commence  its  back- 
ward movement  and  find  its  compensation  in  due  time. 

The  divorce  between  Ciipital  and  Labor  will  cease.  Cap- 
ital will  no  longer  bo  the  master  of  Labor  but,  as  true  Nati<»n- 
al  \Vealt!i,  the  invaluable  hand-maid  of  Labor. 

The  steward  of  that  National  Wealth  will  be  the  State;  it 
liavirg,  as  we  shall  now  see,  a  title  to  all  Capital, ^jaju* 
mount  to  that  of  either  capitalists  or  laborers. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE. 


'-It  is  only  by  beinn^  citizen  of  a  well-ordered  State  tliat,  the 
indiviilnal  has  ^ot  iri(!;hts."—Ilpf/pl. 

'•  Xot  Stato-netion  i:i  itself,  but  State-action  exorcised  bv  a 
hostile  class  it  is  that  ought  to  be  (}e])recate6.''''-~MattJiew  Arnold. 

''Look  to  the  State  I  From  that  you  can  expect  the  hiirhest 
experience  and  skill,  real  and  ethclent  control,  a  national  aim 
and  spirit." — Frederic  Harrison. 

We  have  concluded  the  Socialist  critique  of  the  present  or- 
der of  things.  In  a  nutshell  it  is  this  :  The  Fleecings  increase 
ill  our  country  and  in  all  industrial  countries  at  a  very  great 
rate.  In  order  that  Capital  (tlie  sum  of  these  Fleecings)  may 
h'^.  dimply  maintained,  (mark  that!)  it  mu?t  be  constantly  em- 
ployed in  i)roduction  and  a  market  must  be  found  for  the  prod- 
ucts which  it  enables  Labor  to  create.  Foreign  markets  will 
soon  dry  up ;  our  autocrats,  therefore,  will  be  confined  to  their 
respective  home-markets.  But  the  masses  at  home  are  more 
and  more  becoming  w'age-workers  from  the  opev-ition  of'  In- 
dividualism; "  wage-workers  receive  in  w^ages  only  about  half 
of  what  they  produce;  the  masses,  consequentlj',  are  becom- 
ing more  and  more  unable  to  buy  back  the  Values  they  create. 
Thus  for  lack  of  consumption,    Capital  will  be  more  and  more 


76  THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE. 

threatened  with  depreciation.  The  more  Capital,  the  more 
-'overproduction."  TheWage-System  and  Private  '-Enter- 
prise" will^  indeed,  involve  capitalists  and  laborers  in  one 
common  ruin. 

This  is  tho  foundation  for  what  may  be  called :  "  construct- 
ive" Socialism.  We  are  not  under  the  delusion,  that  jSTations 
can  ha  persuaded  by  the  grandeur,  excellence  and  equity  of  our 
system.  The  Future  is  ours,  because  the  present  system  will 
soon  be  unbearable ;  because,  as  we  said,  we  might  fold  our  arms 
and  calmly  wait  to  see  the  Established  Ordar  fall  to  pieces  by 
its  own  weight.  Our  conception  of  Value,  therefore,  truly  com- 
prises the  u-liole  of  Socialism. 

\\^hen  the  culmination  has  been  reached,  the  reins  will  drop 
from  the  impotont  hands  of  our  autocrats  and  will  be  taken 
up  by  an  impersonal  Power,  coeval  with  human  nature :  The 
State. 

It  is  a  pity  that  we  must  commence  by  guarding  ourselves 
against  the  corrupt  American  use  of  the  term  "•  State;  "  but, 
writing  mainly  for  our  American  countrymen,  we  cannot  help 
ourselves. 

The '"State"  of  Pennsylvania  and  the  other  thirty  seven 
"  States"  are  not,  and  never  were.  States.  Ey  State  we  mean 
with  Webster  '-a  whole  people,  united  in  one  body  politic." 
That  is  the  meaning  of  State  in  all  languages,  English  included 
— except  the  American  language.  Now,  not  one  of  our  Amer- 
ican •'  states  "  was  ever  for  one  moment  a  "  whole  people." 
They  either  were  subjects  to  the  crown  of  England,  or  parts 
of  the  Confederation,  or  of  the  Union.  The  Union  then  is  a 
State^]\is,t  as  France  and  Spain  are  States,  and  it  is  cmphati- 
callj'  so  since  the  American  people  commenced  to  call  them- 
selves a  Nation  with  a  big  N.  This,  however,  by  no  means 
excludes  local  centres  of  authority,  what  we  are  wont  to  call 
'•  local  self-government." 

"  The  State  "  is  a  stumbling  block  to  many  very  worthy  per- 
sons. They  apprehend — a  fear  very  honorable  in  them — that 
State-suprt'macy  would  be  prejudicial  to  Freedom  Wo  hope 
to  make  it  apparent,  that  State-action  and  individual  Freedom, 
fur  from  being  antagonistic,  are  really  complementary  of  each 


THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE.  77 

ether. 

The  reason  why  '^  the  State  "  is  no\v-a-days  such  a  bugbear 
to  so  many,  is  tliat  this  word  has  quite  another  meaning;  in  tlie 
uioutli  of  an  individualist,  wherever  j-ou  find  him,  than  when 
used  by  a  Socialist.  Indeed,  the  fandamental  distinction  be- 
tween '^  Individualism  "  and  Socialism  must  be  sought  in  the 
oj>position  of  these  two  conceptions. 

Individualists,  and  foremost  amongst  them  our  autocrat;^, 
cherish  tliis  degrading:  notion  of  the  State:  that  it  is  merely 
an  organ  of  Society,  synonimous  with  •'  Government" — with 
the  political  machinery  ot  Society.  We  claim — to  quote  Web- 
ster once  more — that  the  State  is  '•  a  whole  people,  united  in 
one  body  politic,"  in  other  words,  that 
Tlie  State  is  the  organized  Society/. 

We  cannot  better  contrast  these  two  conceptions  than  by 
comparing  the  views  of  Herbert  Spencer  when  he  was  a  young 
philosopher  with  his  present  views  now  that  he  is  a  mature 
one. 

Young  Spencer  wrote  a  book,  called  "Social  Statics,"  which 
to  a  great  extent,  has  become  a  manual  to  our  '•  let-alone  " 
politicians.  In  that  work  he  starts  out  with  a  "first  princi- 
ple "  from  which  he  proposes  to  reason  out,  deductive!}',  the 
whole  science  of  government — a  method,  by  the  way,  that  is 
tboughc  rather  precarious  by  scientific  men  of  to-day.  This 
assumed  axiom  which,  undf)ubtedly,  looks  very  captivating 
at  first  sight,  is  that  "  every  man  has  freedom  to  do  all  that 
he  wills,  pi'ovided  he  infringes  not  the  like  freedom  of  any  oth- 
er man."  From  iliis  "principle" — of  whicli  we  shall  pres- 
ently have  more  to  say  —  he  proves  with  flawless  logic, 
that  Society  is  simply  a  voluntarri  association  of  men  for 
mntual  protection  and  the  State  merely  its  organ  to  that  end. 
The  busi.iess  of  the  State,  theretore,  is  only  to  secure  to  each 
citizen  unlimited  freedom  to  exercise  his  faculties.  Then,  to 
be  sure,  the  State  has  no  right  to  tax  men  of  property  for  ed- 
ucating other  men's  childi'en,  or  for  feeding  the  poor  or  even 
for  looking  after  the  Public  Health.  In  taking  upon  itself 
these  functions  the  State  is  acting  the  part  of  an  aggressor  iu. 
ficead  of  that  of  a  protector. 


78  TPIE  SPHERE  OF   THE    STATE. 

The  State  is  a  policeman — notliing  more.  Uy  and  by,  whea 
the  millennium  arrives.  t!ie  State  will  lose  even  that  function ; 
it  will  become  a  rudimentary  organ.  The  State  will  then  dis- 
appear altogether.  As  long  as  it  exists.  It  is  nothing  but  a 
necessary  evil;  onh''  instituted  for  the  bad,  and  only  a  burden 
to  the  good.  If  the  facts  do  not  verify  that  conclusion,  so 
much  the  worse  for  the  facts.  If  the  State's  activity  does  spread 
more  and  more,  even  in  Spencer's  own  country — in  response 
to  the  pressure  of  the  ''  Logic  of  Events,"  and  in  spite  of  the 
frantic  struggles  of  its  ruling  class:  the  wealthy  middle-class 
—so  much  the  worse  for  the  State. 

Such  was  the  reasoning  of  Spencer  in  1850;  and  these  views 
are  accepted  and  practiced  by  the  ruling  powers  of  our  coun- 
try, as  far  as  in  them  lies.  Our  capital-holders  cry  out: 
"You,  State!  You  Government !  Your  whole  business,  you 
know,  consists  in  securing  us  unlimited  freedom  to  exercise 
our  faculties.  That  is  all  we  are  doing  here ;  the  whole  crowd 
of  us  are  exercising  our  faculties,  each  to  the  extent  of  his 
ability.  It  does  not  concern  you  a  bit  whom  or  how  many 
we  are  able  to  fleece  or  how  much  we  fleece  them;  or  how 
many  fall  and  are  trampled  upon.  Let  r.s  alone,  then,  and 
simply  see  to  it  that  we  arc  not  interfered  with !  That  is  what 
you  are  paid  for,  you  know.  'Every  one  look  out  for  him- 
self, and  the  devi:  take  the  hindmost,"'  is  our  and  your  rule 
of  action.".  And  the  *' government "  lets  them  alone.  That 
is  to  say,  it  allows  itself  to  be  made  into  a  peace-ouicer  of  a 
singular  sort.  For  suppose  a  policeman  should  see  a  bully  at- 
tack a  weaker  man,  and  should  say  to  himself:  *'  It  is  not  my 
business  to  protect  that  weak  manor  to  interfere  with  tlie  com- 
batants at  all.  I  take  it  to  be  my  dut3%  just  to  see  to  it  that 
no  one  interferes  with  them.  Sol  will  make  a  ring  round 
them  and  let  the  best  man  win."  That  is  what  our  so  called 
*••  Governments"  virtually  do.  and  so  the  shrewd  greedy  indi- 
viduals who  can  exercise  their  faculties  do  so  to  their  heart's 
content  and  grow  fat  at  tlie  expense  of  other  individuals.  Prob- 
ably in  no  other  age  did  individuals  have  such  .a  power  over 
their  neighbors  as  they  have  now  in  consequence  ot  this  "let- 
alone  "  polic}'.    Every  factory,  mine,  workshop  and  railroad 


THE     SPHERE   OF  THE  STATE.  70 

shows  the  working:  of  it.  The  individual  Vaiidcrbilt  lias  ac- 
quired two  Imiidred  nnllions,  while  another  individual — per- 
haps the  producer  of  pirt  of  his  fortune. — is  sent  to  prison  as 
a  tramp 

But  that  is  all  in  order.  For  hear  youni^  Spencer:  "The 
shouldering  aside  the  weak  by  the  strong,  which  leaves  so 
many  in  shallows  and  miseries,  is  the  decree  of  a  large,  for- 
seeing  benevolence,  regarded  not  separately,  but  in  connection 
with  the  interests  of  universal  humanity.  To  step  in  between 
weakness  and  its  consequences  suspends  the  progress  of  weed- 
ing out  those  of  lower  development  '' — and  Vanderbilt  and 
Gould,  of  course,  are  the  ''  strong,"  and  men  ot  ^*  higher  de- 
velopment! " 

Why  do  not  those  men  of  property — of  "  higher  develop- 
ment"— abolish  this  good-for-nothing  '"'State"  altogether? 
Would  it  not  be  a  good  speculation  for  them  to  let  Courts  of 
Justice  to  the  highest  bidder,  and  farm  out  the  prosecution  of 
wars  to  stock-companies?  Can  they  not  buy  protection  against 
violence,  as  well  as  insurance  against  fire,  and  more  cheaply 
too,  on  the  glorious  free-competition  plan?  Why  do  they  not 
do  it? 

Well,  perhaps  the  State  is  something  else  than  an  organ 
af.er  all. 

Herbert  Spencer,  the  mature  and  profound  philnsopher,  pur- 
sues the  far  more  scientific  method  of  studying  Society,  as  it 
is,  and  the  process  of  its  development,  instead  of  evolving  it, 
as  young  Spencer  did,  out  of  his  own  inner  consciousness. 

His  results  now  are,  that  the  body  politic,  instead  of  being 
a  •'  voluntary  "  association  is,  what  Socialists  claim  that  it  is, 
an  Organism. 

IJeside  arguments  in  his  other  works  he  devotes  a  very  able 
and  ingenious  essay  to  the  drawing  of  parallels  between  a 
highly  developed  State  and  the  most  developed  animals,  and 
sums  up  r 

''  That  they  gradually  increase  in  mass ;  that  they  become,  lit- 
tleby  little  more  complex  •,that  at  the  same  time  their  parts  grow 
more  mutually  dependent ;  and  that  thpy  continue  to  live  and 
grow  as  wholes,  while  successive  generations   of  their  unit/ 


80  THE  SPHERE  OF    THE    STATE. 

appear  and  disappear — are  broad  peculiarities,  which  bodies 
politic  display,  in  common  withallliving  bodies,  and  iu  which 
they  and  other  livinf^  bodies  dilTer  fro  in  everything  else." 

In  several  striking  passages  Spencer  farther  shows  with 
what  singular  closeness  correspondences  can  be  traced  in  the 
details  between  the  two  kinds  of  organisms,  as,  for  instance, 
between  the  distributing  system  of  animal  bodies  and  the  dis- 
tributing sj^stem  of  bodies  politic,  or  between  our  economic 
division  of  labor,  and  that  prevailing  iu  organic  bodies,  '*  so 
strild:ig,  indeed,  that  the  expression '  physiological  division  of 
labor '  has  been  suggested  by  it." 

And  some  of  i  he  leading  contrasts  between  the  two  kinds 
of  organisms,  he  shows,  are  far  less  important  than  appears 
at  first  glance.  Thus,  the  distinction  that  the  living  elements 
of  Society  do  not,  as-in  individual  organisms,  form  one  con- 
tinuous mass,  disappears,  when  we  consider  that  the  former 
are  not  separated  by  intervals  of  dead  space,  but  diffused 
through  space,  covered  with  life  of  u  lower  order,  which  min- 
isters to  their  life.  And  thus  with  this  other  peculiarity, 
that  the  elements  of  a  social  organism  are  capable  of  moving 
from  place  to  place,  is  obviated  by  the  fact,  that  as  farmers, 
manufacturers  and  traders,  men  generally  carry  on  business 
in  tlie  same  localities;  that,  at  all  events,  each  great  centie  of 
hidustry,  each  manufacturing  town  or  district,  continues  al- 
ways in  the  same  place. 

There  is  then  but  one  distinction  left  that  may  be  deemed 
material.  In  the  Social  Organism  the  living  units  are  con- 
scious, while  in  the  animal  organism  it  is  the  whole  that 
possesses  consciousness. 

But  then  those  other  highly  developed  organisms, — to  wit : 
the  vegetable  ones, — have  no  consciousness  at  all.  Society 
could  tlien  be  considered  a  mighty  plant  whose  units  are  high- 
ly developed  animals. 

Again,  though  the  social  organism  has  no  consciousness  of 
its  own,  it  certainly  has  a  distinctive  character  of  its  owr;  a 
corporate  individual Wj,  a  corporate  ''  oneness."  As  a  unit  of 
that  organism  every  individual  certainly  displays  a  wholly  dif- 
ferent character  from  thai  of  the  organism  itself.  Every  Nation 


THE  SPHEnE  OF  THE    STATE.  81 

Aas  its  own  spirit,  wliich  the  Germans  call  the  ^^VoUcsgeist;^* 
a  spirit  whieli  has  its  life  in  the  national  history,  which  pro- 
duces specific  traits  of  nationality,  differing  from  the  com- 
mon traits  of  hnmanity.  It  generally  lies  deep,  hidden,  un- 
Buspected  niitil  such  a  moment  arrives  as  that  with  us,  when 
Fort  r)uniter  was  fired  upon ;  then  rising,  as  it  were,  out  of 
an  abyss  it  urges  thinkers  and  actors  resistlessly  on  to  pursve, 
unwittingly,  the  loftiest  ideal  of  the  race.  This  corporate  in- 
dividuality is  far  from  being  identical  with  average  '^  Public 
Opinion."  It  is  sin  generis  and  makes  the  Social  Organism  an 
organism  siii  generis. 

We  therefore  insist,  with  even  greater  force  than  Spencer 
did,  that  the  State  is  a  living  Organism,  differing  from  other 
orufanisms  i:i  no  essential  respect.  This  is  not  to  be  under- 
stood in  a  simply  metaphorical  sense;  it  is  not  that  the  State 
merely  resembles  an  organism,  but  that  it,  including  with  the 
people  the  land  and  all  that  the  land  produces,  literally  is 
an  organism^  personal  and  territorial. 

The  "  Government  " — the  punishing  and  restraining  author- 
ity— may  possibly  be  dispensed  with  at  some  future  time. 
But  the  State — never.  To  diapense  with  the  State  would  be 
to  dissolve  Society. 

It  follows  that  the  relation  of  the  State,  the  body  politic,  to 
lis,  its  citizens,  is  actually  that  of  a  tree  to  its  cells,  and  not 
that  of  a  heap  of  sand  to  its  grains,  to  which  it  is  entirely  in- 
different how  many  other  grains  of  sand  are  scattered  and 
trodden  under  foot. 

This  is  a  conception  of  far-reaching  consequence. 

In  the^rs^  place,  it,  together  with  the  modern  doctrine  of 
Evolution.,  as  applied  to  all  organisms,  deals  a  mortal  blow  to 
the  theory  of  ''man's  natural  rights."  the  theory  of  man's 
*' inalienable  right "  to  life,  liberty,  property,  ''happiness'' 
&c.,  the  theory  of  which  mankind  during  the  last  century  has 
lieard  and  read  so  much ;  the  theory  that  has  been  so  as- 
siduously preached  to  our  dispossessed  classes,  and  which  has 
benefitted  them  so  little! 

Natural  rights !    The  highest  " natural  right"  we  can  im- 


82  THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE. 

agine  is  for  the  stronger  to  kill  and  eat  the  weaker,  and  for 
the  weaker  to  be  killed  and  eaten.  One  of  the  ' '  natural  rights." 
left  "man''  now,  is  to  act  the  brute  towards  wife  and  children, 
and  tliat  "right"  the  State  lias  already  curtailed  and  will  by- 
and-by  give  it  ti)e  tinishing  stroke.  Another  •*  natural  right," 
very  highly  prized  by  our  autocrats,  is  the  privilege  they  now 
posses  of '•  saving"  for  themselves  what  other  people  pii>- 
duce.  In  brief,  "  natural  rights  "  are  the  riglits  of  the  niuscji- 
lar,  the  cunning,  the  unscrupulous. 

These  so-called  '••natural  rights"  and  an  equally  fictitious 
'Maw  of  nature"  were  invented  bj^  Jean  Jacques  Iloussenu 
(v\  ho  followed  lAither  and  the  other  Reformers  in  the  work  of 
making  breaches  in  the  old  petrified  system  of  the  Middle 
Ages)  as  a  metaphysical  expedient  to  get  some  sanction  to 
legitimate  resistance  to  absolute  authority  in  kings,  nobility 
and  clergy.  lie  derived  them  from  a  supposed  "state  of  na- 
ture" which  he  and  his  disciples  as  enthusiastically  praised  as 
if  they  had  been  there  and  knew  all  about  it.  Now,  modern 
historical  comparative  methods  prove  conclusively  that  this 
"state  of  natuie"  never  existed.  A  man,  living  from  the 
moment  of  his  birth  oiuside  organized  society,  if  this  were 
possible,  would  be  no  more  a  man  than  a  hand  would  be  a 
hand  without  the  b(»dy.  Civil  society  is  man's  natural  state. 
Tliis  "  state  of  nature."  on  the  other  hand,  wonld  be  for  man 
the  Jiiofet  unnatural  state  of  all,  and  fortunately  so,  for  in  it 
wc  should  not  have  been  able  to  make  the  least  headway 
against  our  coiidiiions,  but  must  have  remained,  till  the  pres- 
ent moment,  hungry,  naked  savages,  whose  "  rights  "  would 
not  procure  us  a  single  meal.  And  as  to  a  "  law  of  natuie," 
if  it  is  proper  to  use  that  term  at  all,  it  is  nothing  but  the  con- 
science and  reason  of  civil  society. 

No,  llousseau  did  say  several  things  worth  notice — as  any 
autnor  who  is  being  refuted  a  century  after  his  death  must 
have  done.  These  speculations  of  his  are  indeed  worth  notice, 
to  us  Americans  especially,  since  they  formed  the  logical  basis 
of  our  own  "  epoch-making  "  Revolution — as  a  (Jerman  might 
happily  call  it— though  we  cannot  help  remarking  that  the 
conclusion  here  justified  the  premises,  rather  than  the  rever^'e. 


THE     SPHERE   OF    THE    STATE.  83 

Aud,  further,  tliey  also  furnished  the  justification,  the  steam- 
power,  for  tlie  great  French  Kevokuion.  The  incidents  of  the 
hitter  event,  however,  showed  that  llor.sseau  coukl.  under  cer- 
tain circumstances,  be  a  very  unsa^>.' guide ;  tliey  demonstrated 
tliat  the  ''Natural  lligiits  of  Man  "  were  good  tools  to  tear 
down  rotten  systems  with,  but  bandy  foundations  on  which 
to  erect  new  systems. 

We  have  been  out-spoken  on  this  matter,  because  it  is  so  im- 
portant that  thoughtful  people  should  know  that  philosophic 
^ociaUsts  jepudiate  that  theory  of  ••  natural  rights,"'  and  hi- 
sist  that  the  lesson  taugiit  bj'  Rousseau  and  repeated  (why 
not  say  so  outright'?)  in  our  own  Declaration  of  Independ- 
enc-e  must  be  unlearned  before  any  firm  foundation  can  be 
reacned.  Unfortunately  nearly  ail  our  "reformers"' — men  witli 
the  noLilest  andotten  truly  JSocialist  hearts — cling  to  it  and  build 
on  mau"s  "God-given  Rights  "  as  if  they  were  the  suecial 
conlidants  of  Uod. 

lint  Carlyie  is  emphatically  right  when  he  says  "  iVTothing 
solid  can  be  founded  on  shams;  it  must  conform  to  the  reali- 
ties, the  verities  of  things." 

Here  is  such  a  realit}- : 

It  is  Society,  organized  Society,  the  State  that  gives  us  all  the 
rights  we  have.  To  the  State  we  owe  our  freedom.  To  it  we 
owe  our  living  and  property,  for  outside  of  organized  Society 
man's  needs  far  surpasses  his  means.  The  humble  beggar 
owes  much  to  the  State,  but  the  haughty  millionaire  far  more, 
for  outside  of  it  they  both  would  be  worse  oft'  than  the  beggar 
now  is.  To  it  we  owe  all  that  w^e  are  and  all  that  we 
liave.  To  it  we  owe  our  civilization.  It  is  by  its  help 
that  we  have  reached  such  a  condition  as  man  individual- 
ly never  would  have  been  able  to  attain.  Progress  is  tlie 
struggle  with  Nature  for  master}^  is  war  with  the  misery  and 
inabilities  of  our  "  natural  "  condition.  Tiie  Stf^te  is  the  or- 
ganic union  of  us  all  to  wage  that  war,  to  subdue  Mature,  to 
redress  natural  defects  and  inequalities.  The  State  therefore, 
so  far  from  being  a  burden  to  the  ''•  good,"  a  ''  necessary  evil," 
is  man"s  greatest  good. 

This  conceal  vt  «•<  the  State  as  an  organism  thus  consigns 


84  THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE. 

the  '■''  rights  of  man  "  to  obscurity  and  puts  DiU>j  in  the  fore- 
ground. 

In  tiie  second  phice,  we  now  can  ascertain  the  truespliere  of 
the  iStatc.  That  is,  we  now  can  coninicnce  to  build  something 
solid. 

We  ^ay /S^j/iere  on  purpose;  we  do  not  ask  what  arc  the 
'•'■  riglils."'  •'  duties  "  or  "functions  '*  of  the  State,  for  it  it  truly 
is  aa  organism  ic  is  just  as  improper  to  speak  of  its  ri^lits,  du- 
ties or  functions  towards  its  citizens  as  it  is  to  speak  of  a 
man's  rights,  duties  and  functions  in  relation  to  his  heart,  hjs 
legs,  or  his  head.  Tlie  State  iias  rights,  duties  and  functions 
in  I'chition  to  other  organisms,  but  towards  its  own  members 
it  has  only  a  sphere  or  activities. 

The  sphere  of  the  State  simply  consists  in  cjiring  for  its  own 
welf  ire,  just  as  a,  man's  sphere,  as  far  as  iiiiuself  is  concerned, 
consists  in  caring  for  his  owii  well-being.  If  tiiat  be  proper- 
ly done,  then  his  brain,  his  lungs  and  his  stomacli  will  liave 
iiotliing  to  complain  of. 

So  with  the  State.  Its  wliole  sphere  is  the  making  all  spec- 
ial aclivitie-  work  togrthcr  for  one  general  cm]  :  its  own  wel- 
fare, or  the  Public  Gaud.  Observe  that  the  Public  Liood,  the 
General  Welfare,  implies  far  more  than  •*  thegreatest  good  to 
the  greatest  mnnber  "  on  which  our  "practical"  politicians 
of  today  basetheirtrilling  measures.  Their  motto  broadly  sanc- 
tions the  sacriticc  of  minorities  to  majoiities,  while  the  •'  Gen- 
eral Welfare'' unmans  the  greatest  good  of  every  individual 
cili::en. 

To  that  end  the  State  may  do  anything  whatsoever  which 
is  shown  to  be  exi)edifcnt. 

Jt  may,  as  it  always  has  done,  limit  the  right  of  a  person  to 
dispone  of  himself  in  mariiage  as  h(3  pleases. 

The  Stat(>.  is,  in  the  words  of  J.  S.  Mill,  "  fidly  entitled  to 
abrogate  or  alter  any  parti(nilar  right  of  property  which  it 
judges  to  stand  in  the  waj'"  of  the  puljlic  good." 

The  State  may  tomorrow,  if  it  judges  it  expedient,  take  all 
the  capital  of  the  country  from  its  present  owners,  without 
any  comi)ensation  whatsoever,  and  convert  it  into  social  Cap- 
ital. 


THE     SPHERE    OF    THE    STATE.  85 

In  Chapter  1  we  showed  that  the  whole  wealth  of  tlie  coun- 
try {i.e.  not  natural  wealth  but  the  sum  of  all  Values)  is 
the  result  of  Labor.  Asj  against  capitalists  the  producers, 
therefore,  would  clearly  be  entitled  to  it.  But  as  against  the 
State,  tlie  organized  Society,  even  J^abor  does  not  give  us  a 
particle  of  title  to  what  ouriiands  and  bi'ain  produce. 

One  need  not  be  a  Socialist  to  acknowledge  that. 

Wm.  J>.  AVeeden,  a  manufacturer  in  Providence,  K.  I.,  says 
in  a  ciiticism  on  Henry  George's  book  in  the  Atlantic  MunUi" 
hj  for  Dec.  1880  : 

'*The  axe  yon  use  is  not  yours,  though  yoti  may  have  niade 
it,  instead  of  buying  it  in  the  market.  The  idea  of  the  axe, 
its  potentiality,  which  enables  it  to  prevail  over  natm^e.  does 
not  belong  to  3'ou.  This  is  the  result  of  long  generations  of 
development,  from  the  rudest  stone-tool  to  the  elegant  steel- 
blade  which  rings  through  the  pine-woods  of  Maine.  This 
belongs  to  Societ3%  Neither  the  laborer  nor  the  capitalist  owns 
that  principle.  So  ever^'where.  Neither  Labor  nor  (Capital 
emploj^s  the  other.    It  is  Society  which  employs  both." 

To  whom  does  the  telegraph  belong?  To  Society.  Neither 
Prof.  Morse  nor  any  other  inventor  can  lay  sole  claim  to  it. 
It  greio  little  by  little. 

With  still  greater  force  the  State  may  reclaim  possession  of 
all  the  land  within  its  limits,  all  laws,  customs  and  deeds  to 
the  contrary  notwithstanding. 

We  say  '•  with  still  greater  force,"  not  because  tlie  owner- 
ship of  land  is  on  a  diiferent  footing  from  tliat  of  other  Cap- 
ital. Its  Value,  like  that  of  other  Capital,  is  partly  real,  aris- 
ing from  the  labor  of  this  and  farmer  generations,  and  partly 
unreal,  due  to  the  raonoiDoly  of  it  and  the  constantly  increas- 
ing necessities  of  the  community.  It  therefore  is  the  creation 
of  Society  as  much  as  other  Capital.  We  say  so  because  the 
Common  Law  of  Great  Britain  and  our  country  has  always 
claimed,  and  still  does  claim  that  the  State  is  the  sole  landlord 

"•  The  first  thing  thf  student  has  to  get  rid  of  is  the  abso- 
lute idea  of  ownership.  Such  an  idea  is  quite  unknown  to  the 
EngMsh  Uvv.    N.>  man  is  in  law,  the  absolute  owner  of  lands; 


86  THE   SPHERE    OF   THE  STATE. 

he  can  only  bold  an  estate  in  them."     Williams:     On  the  laia 
of  Beal  Property. 

Wlien,  therefore,  the  Trinity  Church  Corporation  of  Xew 
York  City  claims  to  own  city  property  of  sufficient  value  to 
pay  all  the  debts  of  the  State  of  New  York,  its  cities  and  vil- 
lages, a  value  mainly  created  by  the  tenants  who  have  covered 
that  tract  of  land  with  buildings,  grudcd  and  p.ived  the  streets 
and  built  the  sewers,  it  is  simply  a  glaring  u.■^^^palio^. 

When,  therefore,  the  increased  values  of  Real  Estate,  due 
simply  to  the  progress  of  the  counir3\  are  permiLted,  in  the 
form  of  increased  rents  "to  drop  into  the  months  of  landown- 
ers as  they  sleep  instead  of  being  applied  to  the  pui)lie  neces- 
sities of  the  Society  which  created  it  "  in  the  words  of  Mill, 
ii  is  only  because  the  too  *"  enterprising""  individual  has  got 
the  better  of  the  State. 

For  the  same  reason  the  landowner  has  been  permitted  to 
possess  whatever  treasure  may  be  liiddiui  in  it,  even  treasure 
of  which  no  man  knew  anything,  w  licn  the  owner  entered  in- 
to possession — an  allowance,  than  vvhicli  no  one  moie  foolish 
or  absurd  could  be  imagined. 

For  the  same  reason  the  splendid  opportunities  which  our 
country  had,  both  in  the  reconstruction  of  the  Soulhei'ii  States 
and  in  the  settlement  of  our  public  lauds,  for  making  the  2sa- 
tion  the  sole  Landlord,  were  not  so  nuich  as  thought  oi. 

Our  landowucrs  ought  to  admit  with  r.];ickstone:  *•  We 
seem  to  fear,  that  our  tith-s  are  not  qinto  good  ;  it  is  well  the 
great  mass  obey  the  laws  without  inquiring  wliy  they  were 
made  so  and  not  otherwise." 

But  there  is  no  need  to  devote  more  space  hei-e  to  discuss 
the  sui)reme  title  of  the  State  to  the  land  since  the  appearance 
of  Henry  George's  book  :  '•  Progress  and  Poverty,"  which 
we  lioi)e  all  our  readers  have  read.  The  main  criticism  M'hich 
Socialists  have  to  make  on  tliis  work  is  that  it  pushes  the  land 
question — in  our  conntry  a  secondarv  question  in  iujportance 
— so  much  into  the  foreground,  that  sight  is  entirely  lost  of 
the  princi|)al  question:  Who  should  control  the  instruments 
of  production  and  transpoi'f  ation  ?  Fuithermore.  Geoi'ge  seems 
to  hiive  written  his  book  Ibr  Englishmen,  Scotchmen  and  Irish- 


THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE.  87 

men,  rather  than  for  Americans.  To  start  the  solution  of  the 
social  problem  in  our  country,  wlicrc  as  yet  tiie  great  majority 
of  farmers  own  the  land  which  they  cultivate,  with  a  propo- 
sition to  div'est  all  landowners  of  their  titles,  is  lo  commence 
by  making  a  very  large  portion  of  the  workers  to  be  benefit- 
ed iiostile  to  all  social  change. 

The  State  is  thus  fully  entitled  to  take  charge  of  a'l  in- 
struments of  Labor  and  Production,  and  to  say  that  all  social 
activities   shall  be  carried  on  in  a  perfectly  different  manner. 

Undoubtedly  the  whole  fleecing  class  will  interpose  their 
socalled  "vested  rights."  That  is  to  say  because  the  State 
for  a  long  time  tacitly  allowed  a  certain  class  to  divide  the 
common  stock  of  social  advantages  among  themselves  and  ap- 
propriate it  to  their  own  individual  benetit  theretore  the  State 
is  estopped,  they  say,  from  ever  recovering  it.  And  not  alone 
will  they  claim  undisturbed  possession  of  what  they  have,  but 
also  the  right  to  use  it  in  the  future  as  they  have  in  the  past; 
that  is,  they  will  claim  a  •'  vested  right"  to  fleece  the  masses 
to  all  eternity. 

But  such  a  protest  will  be  just  as  vain  as  was  that  of  the 
Pope  against  the  loss  of  his  temporal  sovereignty.  The  theory 
of  "  vested  rights  "  never  ap|)lics  when  a  revolution  has  taker. 
place;  when  the  whole  structure  of  Society  is  changed.  The 
tail  of  a  tadpole  that  is  developing  into  a  frog  may  protest  as 
nuich  as  it  pleases ;  Nature  heeds  it  not.  And  when  the  Irog 
is  an  accomplished  fact,  there  is  no  tail  to  protest. 

This  whole  doctrine  of  "'  vested  rights  "  moreover,  has  its 
reason  m  the  fact  that  from  the  dawn  of  history  to  the  pres- 
onttime  we  have  had  and  huve  jyrivileged  classes.  Henry  (ijorge 
remarks  very  pointedly:  "-When  we  allow  •  vested  rights' 
we  still  wear  the  collar  of  the  Saxon  thrall."  The  only  'vested 
right "  any  man  has  is  the  right  to  such  institutions  as  will  best 
promote  the  Public  Good.  A  man  has  no  other  right  what- 
ever in  a  civilized  community.  If  he  is  not  satisfied  with 
tlKit,  lie  may  exile  himself  to  where  there  is  no  civilization,  and 
even  there  liis  decendants  will  necessarily  grow  up  into  a  State. 

Observe  further,  that  the  Public  Welfare  means  more  than 
the  welfare  of  all  the  Jiving  individuals  composing  it.    Since 


8^  THE  SPHERE  OP  TIIE    8A*AiE. 

the  State  is  an  organism,  it  is  more  than  all  of  us  collectively. 

It  would  be  absurd  to  say,  that  a  man  is  nothing  but  an  ag- 
gre.iratioji  of  his  cells.  Burke  said  rightly  of  the  State,  that 
it  iiiciudes  the  dead,  the  living  and  the  coming  generations. 
We  are  wliat  we  are  far  more  by  the  accumulated  influence  of 
past  generations  than  by  our  own  eiFcrts  and  our  labor  will 
principally  benefit  those  who  are  to  follow  us.  The  Public 
Welfare  thus  includes  the  welfare  of  the  generations  to  come. 
This  comi)rehensive  conception  places  the  pettiness  and  im- 
potency  of  our  '•  indivirlualism  "  in  the  most  glaring  light. 
For  liow  can  it  ever  be  the  private  interest  of  mortal  individ- 
uals to  make  immediate  sacrifices  for  the  distant  future? 

"'  But  if  the  State's  Sphere  is  to  be  extended  to  everything 
that  may  alTect  the  Public  W^elfare,  why!  then  there  is  no 
stopping  to  what  the  State  will  attempt." 

We  let  Professor  Huxley  reply  ("Administi-ative  Nihilism.'') 
"•  Surely  the  answer  is  obvious,  that.  0:1  similar  grounds,  the 
right  of  a  man  to  eat  when  he  is  hungry,  might  be  disputed, 
because  if  you  once  allow  that  he  may  eat  at  all  there  is  no 
stopping,  until  he  gorges  himself  and  suflers  all  the  ills  of  a 
surfeit." 

Does  it  not  now  seem  more  profitable,  especially  to  our  dis- 
possessed classes,  to  lay  stress  on  Buti/  rather  than  on  lU'jhts? 

Docs  our  conception  of  the  Slate  not  furni-h  a  very  iirni 
foundation,  firm  enough  to  build  a  New  Social  Order  oar 

Let  us  then  give  due  credit  to  Herbert  Spencer  for  his  pro- 
found speculations  on  the  Social  Organism.  He  has  indeed, 
in  them  laid  the  foundation  for  constructive  Socialism,  as  far 
as  the  Anglo-Saxon  peoples  are  concerned,  just  as  fJicardo  by 
his  speculations  on  Value  did  it  for  ci  itical  Socialism.  Tine, 
Spencer  is  still  the  apostle  of '"Individualism;  "  he  exhibits 
still  a  morbid  aversion  to  all  State-activity,  but  we  have  a  right 
to  call  his  present  utterances  on  tLat  point  mere  crotchets, 
since  they  do  not  receive  the  least  support  from  his  splendid 
arguments  in  favor  of  the  organic  character  of  Society. 

That  is  also  Professor  Huxley's  opinion.  He  says:  "I 
cannot  but  think,  that  the  real  force  of  the  analogy  is  totally 


THE  SPHERE  OF   THE    STATE.  89 

opposed  to  the  negative  (individualistic)  view  of  the  State- 
function. 

"Suppose  that  in  accordance  with  this  view,  each  muscle 
•were  to  maintain,  tliat  the  nervous  system  liad  no  right  to  in- 
terfere with  its  contraction  except  to  prevent  it  from  Jiin- 
dering  the  contraction  of  another  muscle;  or  each  gland, 
that  it  had  a  right  to  secrete,  as  long  as  its  secretion  inter- 
f<;red  with  no  other;  suppose  every  separate  cell  left  five  to 
follow  its  own  interests  and  be  •  let  alone.'  Lord  of  all  I  what 
would  become  of  the  body  physiological?' 

This  negative  view  of  the  State-function  is  a  very  modern 
one.  So  thinker  or  philosophic  Stateman  up  to  the  IStli  cen- 
tury anywhere  dreamt  of  it.  Not  until  the  exaggerated  form 
of  the  Protestant  doctrine  of  the  independence  of  the  individ- 
ual had  taken  possession  of  men's  minds;  not  until  the  greac 
delusion  had  become  prevalent,  that  we  have  been  brought 
into  this  world,  each  for  the  sake  of  himself,  did  it  come  in- 
to vogue.  Then  it  was  that  William  von  Humboldt  (who  may 
be  said  to  be  the  father  of  the  doctrine)  deliberately  degraded 
the  State  below  a  peace-officer  or  a  watch-dog. 

But  even  ultra-Protestant  nations  that  adopted  this  view  in 
theory  have  constantly  been  impelled  by  an  inward  neces.<ity 
to  repudiate  it  in  practice.  It  forbids  the  State,  as  we  iiave 
seen,  to  concern  itself  about  the  poor,  and  yet  the  Poor  law 
of  Elizabeth  (^still  in  force  in  Great  Britain  and  our  country) 
confers  upon  every  man  a  legal  claim  to  relief  from  funds  ob- 
tained by  enforcing  a  contribution  from  the  general  couununi- 
ty.  It  forbids  the  State  to  concern  itself  about  schools,  libra- 
ries, universities,  asyliuns  and  hospitals,  and  yet  it  concerns  it- 
self more  and  more  with  them.  England  is  to  this  day  proud 
of  having  spent  a  hundred  million  of  dollars  in  abolishing 
slavery  in  her  colonies,  and  in  these  latter  days  she  is  spread- 
ing her  activity  over  railroads  and  telegraphs,  without  the 
least  apparent  compunction  of  conscience.  And  our  country, 
(especially  under  democratic  control  the  champion  of  this 
''  let  alone  "  abomination)  finds  today  her  cliief  glory  in  hav- 
ing torn  slavery  up  hy  the  roots  with  its  strong  national  arm. 
But  let  it,  in  the  third  place,   be  emphatically  understood, 


90  THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE. 

that  when  we  insist  tbnt  the  State  ought  to  extend  its  sphere 
over  all  social  noLiviLies.  we  do  not  mean  the  present  State 
at  all. 

Our  Republic  is  a  State.  Parlianientary  Great  Britain  is  a 
State.  Imperial  Germany,  autocratic  Russia  and  bureaucratic 
China. are  all  social  organisms.  But  not  one  of  them  is  a  full 
gruion  State,  a  lull^^  dcveloi)ed  organism.  In  all  of  them 
our  own  country  included,  classes  exercise  the  authority  and 
direct  ail  social  activity. 

Do  not  here  bring  forward  the  insi|)id  commonplace  that, 
properly  speaking,  we  have  no  '•  classes  ''  in  our  country  and 
that  the  '•  people ""  govern  here  I        No  classes?    Indeed ! 

Roam  around  in  New  York,  Boston,  Philadelphia  or  any  of 
our  towns  above  a  countiy-village,  for  ihiit  matter,  and  you 
will  find  them  all  inapi)ed  out  into  districts  stricth"  according 
to  the  poverty  or  wealth  of  the  inhabitants.  Those  who  live 
in  the  poorer  districts  along  neglected  dhty  streets  in.badly 
arranged  and  badly  furnished  liouses  constitute  a  lower  caste 
in  fact,  since  nine-tenths  of  them  Q-duuothy  any  possibility^  un- 
der onr  Social  system,  get  out  of  it.  They  and  their  children 
after  iXwuxmust  i-emain  in  their povertj',  squalor  and  degrada- 
tion as  long  as  this  system  endures.  In  the  healthy,  beauti- 
ful and  comfortable  quarters  we  find  those  who  arrogate  to 
themselves  the  name  of  ••  Society, "  our  "'  best  people," "prom- 
inent citizens." 

Which  of  these  two  classes  govern — the  majority  living  in 
tenement-houses,  back-alleys  and  ill-smelling  neighborhoods 
or  the  minority  in  the  aristocratic  districts? 

It  is  frequently  remarked  that  *'  our  best  people  "  have  with- 
drawn themselves  from  politics.  Suppose  that  is  so — though 
•t  is  also  noticed  that  men  of  wealih  lately  have  secured  seats 
m  Congress  to  such  an  extent  tliat  our  national  Senate,  to  a 
/^reat  extent,  consists  of  very  rich  people — still  that  is  very 
little  to  the  point.  For,  since  the  State  is  the  organized  So- 
(jiety,  ••  politics  "  oonstitnte  but  a  trifle  of  the  social  activi- 
/;ies,  compared  with  the  various  forms  of  industry.  AVe  have 
geen  that  it  is  our  '*  prominent  citizens  "  who  control  our  man- 
ufactures,   transportation  and  commerce,  who  indeed  exercise 


THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE.  91 

an  autocratic  contrf»l  over  these,  and  that  they  are  destiiiod  to 
do  the  like  hi  agriculture  within  a  short  time.  Then-  control  over 
the  transporting  interests  of  the  couutr}^,— interests  so  dom- 
inant that  it  has  been  jnslly  said  :  '•  He  who  controls  the  high- 
ways of  a  Nation,  controls  the  Nation  itself  '• — is  indeed  so  su. 
preme  that  Vanderbilt  is  reported  to  have  observed  with  re- 
freshing candor :  ''The  roads  are  not  run  for  the  benefit  of 
''the  dear  public."  No  matter,  whether  he  has  been  so  candid 
or  not,  they  certainly  are  not. 

P  litics  then  form  but  a  very  small  part  of  our  social  activ- 
ities. The  people  are  said  to  govern  thtse;  their  "govern- 
ment," in  fact,  consists  in  choosing  on  election  day  between 
iwo  sets  of  men  presented  for  their  snfiVages.  What  that 
amounts  to  we  shall  see  in  another  chapter,  and  shall  here 
simply  remark,  that  as  soon  as  the  one  or  theother  setof  men 
have  been  elected  they  pass  entirely  out  of  the  control  of  the 
voters.     Who   then   contiol  the  actions  of  those  thus  chosen? 

W^e  shall  entirely  pass  by  the  ever-recuri  ing  cliarges  of  bri- 
bery of  legislators  and  whole  legislatures;  we  shall  pass  by 
another  reported  candid  admission  by  Vaiderbilt:  "  When  I 
want  to  buy  up  an}-  politician  I  always  find — the  most  purchase- 
able;"  w^e  shall  pass  by  the  solemn  declaration  of  a  com- 
mittee of  the  kgisliituie  of  the  State  of  New  York,  that  no 
bill  could  pass  the  Senate  \a  ithout  Vanderbilt's  consent.  We 
let  all  these  things  pass  as  perhaps  nou  proven. 

But  one  thing  is  so  evident  that  no  one  will  dream  of  dis- 
puting it,  as  soon  as  its  meaning  is  faiily  understood  ;  these 
autocrats  of  our  industrial  affairs  dictate  the  policy  of  the  gov^ 
ernraent  to  legislatures  and  Congress,  to  presidents,  governors 
and  judges,  and  have  dictated  it  since  the  establishment  of  our 
government.  What  we  mean  is  simply  what  we  have  all  along 
insii-ted  upon,  that  both  our  national  and  local  governments 
throughout  profess  allegiance  to  the  ''let  alone"  polio}-; 
that  all  executive,  legislative  and  judicial  officers  are  trained 
from  the  day  they  enter  school  or  college  to  look  on  public 
afiairs  through  capitalistic  spectacles.  We  simply  mean  to 
say  that  not  one  so-called  statesman  of  any  influence  in  either 
of  the  two  great  political   parties  ever  dreams  of  interJer- 


02  THE  SPHERE  of  the  state. 

ing  "with  the  "■  business" — interests  of  our  plutocrats,  if  he 
am  lirlp  it.  'J'hey  nil  echo  the  sentiuieut  of  Judge  Foraker, 
the  Ifepublicau  cancUdate  for  f^overuor  of  Oliio  :  "  Capital  is 
sensitive',  it  sliri)iks  from  the  very  appearance  of  danger.^' 

What  need  tlieu  for  them  ''to  go  into  politics"  when  they 
already  have  their  devoted  retainers  iu  eveiy  place  of  auth(u-- 
ity? 

They  ueed  have  no  fear  ever  to  be  interfered  witli  as  long 
as  they  retain  tlieir  pi'ceniinent  position  in  ii:dustri;il  alfairs. 
The  ruling  class  industrially  will  always  be  the  ruling  class 
politically. 

'J'herefore  we  say  it  is  Utopian  to  hope  to  liave  a  legal  nor- 
mal working  day  of  eight  hours,  much  more  so  one  of  six  hours, 
as  Moody  proposes  in  his  Land  and  Labor,  as  long  as  the  Es- 
tablished Order  lasts. 

Therefore  it  is  Utopian  to  hope  to  have  land  uatioualized  as 
George  advocates,  as  long  as  we  have  the  wage-system. 
Therefore  capitalists  will  very  likely  succeed  in  their  strenuous 
opposition  to  the  i^ropositlon  made  by  a  late  Postmaster  Gen- 
eral, that  the  Nation  shall  take  possession  of  the  telegraphs 
of  the  country.  But  if  they  should  at  last  be  compelled  to 
yield — because  the  necessities  of  the  Social  organism  command 
it — they  are  sure  to  demand  and  receive  extravagant  compon- 
Eation  for  their  •"  i)roi)ert3%"  for  the  '•  vested  rights  "  of  cap- 
italists have  always  been  appreciated,  while  as  we  already  have 
noted  the  working-classes  have  never  been  thought  entitled 
to  compensation  when  new  machinery  drove  them  out  of  old 
employments. 

While  now  our  autocrats  generally  are  satisfied,  aid  well 
may  be  satistied,  with  their  veto  on  all  proposed  public  meas- 
ures, prejudicial  to  their  siuister  interests,  and  with  interdict- 
ing all  legislation  in  favor  of  the  masses,  tliey  never  have  ob- 
jected to  any  State-action  that  would  put  money  into  their 
pockets.  They  have  been,  and  still  are  to  a  great  extent,  ben- 
eticaries  of  the  Nation,  another  proof  that  ^/tc?/ really  govern, 
even  politically. 

Wc  all  know  that  the  National  Government   has  presenteu 


THE    SPilERE    OF   THE    STATE.  93 

six  railroad   companies  with  an   empire  of  land  as  large  as        i 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland  and  half  as  much  more,  and   in  ad-       J 
dition  has  guaranteed  bonds  of  theirs, which  with  accrued  in- 
terest at  the  maturity  of  these  bonds  will  amount  to  more  than 
ISO  million  dollars. 

We  have  already  seen,  how  the  whole  machinery  of  Govern-  ;' 
ment  has  been  set  and  kept  in  motion  to  acquire  foreign  mar- 
Icets  for  our  autocrats  and  to  prepare  our  working-classes  for 
the  requisite  reduction  in  wages,  simply  that  this  wage-sys- 
tem might  secure  a  new  lease  of  life,  however  short  and  pre-  \ 
carious  and  however  injurious  the  effect  which  this  policy 
would  have  on  tlie  condition  of  the  workers. 

We  see  to-day,  as  our  forefathers  have  often  seen,  how  agi- 
tated the  tvv'o  great  political  parties  of  our  country  are  on  the 
questions  of  Free-Trade  or  Protection.  This  issue  makes  it 
so  very  plain  how  paramount  the  inlluence  of  our  autocrats  is 
in  political  affairs.  It  is  our  manufacturers  who  want  protec- 
tion ;  it  is  our  commercial  men  who  want  free-trade.  The  form- 
er undoubtedly  pretend,  that  protection  benelits  t!)e  laborhig 
classes ;  but  that  this  claim  is  a  mere  sham  is  evident  from  the 
fact  that  they  never  have  proposed  to  discourage  the  immigra- 
tion of  foreign  laborers;  that  they  would  violently  oppose  a 
proposal  to  that  effect;  that  they,  on  the  contrary,  always 
have  done  all  ttiey  could  to  encourage  foreign  laborers  to  come 
here,  that  tliey  even  send  agents  over  to  Europe  to  coax  them 
by  false  pretences  over  here.  Our  protectionist  fleecers  want 
protection  for  the  results  of  Labor ^  but  free-trade  in  Labor.  The 
commercial  men.  on  the  other  hand.  whos<!  interest  it  is  to 
Lave  free-trade  in  all  things,  never  have  objected  to  handsome 
gifts  from  Government  for  their  ships  in  the  guise  of  subsidies 
i-n-  the.  performance  of  mail-servici  s. 

Class-rule  is  always  detrimental  to  the  welfare  of  the  whole  . 
«:)cial  organism,  because  classes,  when  in  power,  cannot  help 
considering  themselves  pre-eminently  tiie  State.  Tiiey,  fur- 
thermore, cannot  help  being  biased  in  favor  of  their  special 
hiterests  :tnd  therefore  are  necessaril}-  hostile  to  the  rest  of  the 
Nation,  iuid  aa  we  daily  see  in  our  free-traders  and  protection- 
ists, hostile  to   each  otiier.    INlaithew  Arnold  speaks   truly 


94  THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE. 

when  he  st.j^s  that  State-action  by  a  hostile  class  ought  to  be 
depreciitetl. 

Our  Iiopiiblic,  therefore,  just  as  all  other  modern  States,  may 
properly  ])c  compared  to  some  imaginable  animal  organism, 
where  tlie  blood,  proceeding  from  tlie  collective  digestion,  is 
})rincipally  diverted  to  the  stomach  or  the  brain,  while  the 
arms  and  legs  are  stinted  as  much  as  possible. 

This  (7/(7.s's-State  will  develop  into  a  Commonwealth — bless 
the  Puritans  for  that  splendid  English  word!  It  will  develop 
into  a  State  that  will  know  of  no  *•  clas-es  "  either  in  tlieory 
or  practice;  in  other  words  into  a  State  where  the  whole  popu- 
lation is  incorporated  into  Society.  In  the  place  of  the  present 
partially  evolved  organism  in  which  the  arms  and  legs,  and 
to  a  great  extent  the  brain,  are  stinted  in  blood  as  much  as 
possible,  we  shall  have  an  «n-ganism  •"  whose  every  organ  shall 
receive  blood  in  proportion  to  the  work  it  does  "  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Spencer. 

That  is  to  say :  the  Commonwealth  will  he  a  State  of  Equal- 
ity. 

It  is  said  that  '••  we  already  have  equality,"  and  when  we 
ask  the  meaning  of  the  phrase  we  are  told  that  all  are  "  eq.ial 
before  the  law."  If  that  were  really  the  case — what  it  is  not 
— it  would  be  but  a  poor  kind  of  equality.  The  cells  of  the 
root  and  of  the  flower  in  a  plant  are  '•  equal;  "  the  cells  of 
the  foot  and  of  the  heart  in  an  animal  are  '•  equal."  for  they 
are  all  properly  cared  for ;  the  organism  knows  of  no  "  higher  " 
and  ••  lower"  organs  ur  cells.  And  so  it  will  be  in  the  future 
Commonwealth;  there  "  Equality"  will  mean  that  every  unit 
of  Society  can  truly  say  to  any  other  unit :  "I  am  not  less 
than  a  man,  and  thou  art  not  more  than  a  m.in." 

Again,  our  Connnoiiwealth  will  put  Inlerilepemlence  in  the 
place  of  the  ])ln'ases  of  our  Declaration  of  Independence,  which 
claims  for  every  citizen  the  "  right"  to  life,  liberty  and  the  |)ur- 
suit  of  "happiness."  This  declaration  was  evidently  adopted 
by  "  Individualists,"  as  the  French  IJevolntion  was  a  revolution 
of  "  Individualism,"  for  of  what  use  is  it  to  possess  the  "  right  " 
to  do  something,  when  you  have  not  the  power,  the  nieans, 
the  opportunity  to  do  it?     Is  this  "  right  to  the  pursuit  of 


THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE.  95 

A 
happiness  "  not  a  mocking  irony  to  tlie  masses  who  cannot  pur- 
sue "happiness"?     We  saw  how  the  n)i]]ionah-e  and  beggar     / 
would  be  equally  miserable  outside  of  the  State,  and  behold,     ' 
how  much  this  Rights-of-Man  doctrine  has  done  for  the  former 
and  how  very  little  for  the  latter ! 

The  future  Commonwealth  will /ieTp  every  individual  to  attain 
the  highest  development  he  or  she  lias  capacity  for.  It  will 
lay  a  cover  for  every  one  at  Nature's  table.  ''State"  and 
"  State- /ieZp  "  will  be  as  inseparable  as  a  piano  and  music. 

Do  not  now  object,  as  young  Spencer  did  in  "  Social  Statics," 
that  this  means  '"  transforming  every  citizen  into  a  grown-up 
baby ;  "  for  the  objection  is  not  to  the  point  at  all. 

State-help  is  not  to  do  away  with  a  man's  own  efforts.  I  do 
not  do  aw^ay  with  a  man's  own  cftorts.  when  I  hand  him  a  lad- 
der. I  do  not  set  asidt^  his  own  exertions  in  cultivating  a  field, 
because  I  give  him  a  plow.  Our  State  does  not  i  ender  useless 
the  powers  ot  a  boy.  when  it  furnishes  liim  s  hools,  teachers 
and  libraries.  Our  Commonwealth  wiil  relieve  none  of  self- 
help,  but  make  self-help  possible  to  all.  U  'will  help  everybody 
to  help  himself. 

That  is  to  say:  this  Commonw-ealth  will  be  a  Society  all  of 
w^hose  units  have  a  sense  of  belonging  together,  ot  being  re- 
sponsible for  one  another;  a  Society,  pervaded  by  a  feeling 
of  what  we,  using  a  foreign  wo]-d,  call  Solidarity^  but  wliat 
we  not  inaptly  may  in  English  term  Corporate  Responsi- 
bility. 

It  is  worth  noting  that  our  modern  Insurance  companies, 
particularly  those  of  Life-insurance,  are  teaching  us  that  re- 
sponsibility for  do  they  not  make  the  strong  and  temper  ite 
of  us  use  their  prolonged  lives  to  i)ay  up  premiiuus  which  go 
to  th*^  progeny  of  the  weak  and  reckless  'i 

•'  But  what  about  Libert j  f  "  the  reader  may  ask. 

Many  worthy  persons,  as  we  said  commonidngthis  chapter, 
entertain  the  fear  which  shines  forth  in  Alill's  famous  essay 
on  '••  liberty ;"  the  fear  lest  freedom  should  be  drilled  and 
disciplined  out  of  human  life,  in  order  that  the  great  mill  ul 
the  Commonwealth  should  grind  smoothly.  To  ascertain 
whether  this  feai  is  well  grounded  or  not  we  must  first  know, 


96  THE  SPHEKE  OF  THE  STATE. 

what  we  are  to  understand  by  the  words  :  '•'•  Freedom  "  and 
"-  Liberty." 

Everybody  calls  the  not  being  oppressed  :  "Liberty."  That  is, 
undoubtedly,  an  indispensable  and  yet,  as  has  been  said,  a  most 
Insig  iiiiicant  fractional  part  of  human  freedom.  Then,  again, 
we  mean  by  '*  Liberty"  the  not  being  restrained,  being  •*  at 
Liberty  "  to  do  this  or  that.  Now,  that  may  be  a  good  thing 
or  otherwise.  Whether  it  is  the  one  or  the  oth^r  depends  en- 
tirely upon  the  answer  to  the  question  :  to  do  ichat? 

To  be  "at  liberty  "  to  be  a  tramp  or  to  die  of  starvation,  or 
to  steal,  or  to  be  lodged  in  a  jail  are  not  good  things.  We 
sometimes  find  a  great  lout  in  a  railroad  car  who  thinks  he  is 
"  at  liberty"  to  spread  himself  over  four  seats,  but  occasion- 
ally he  finds  out,  that  he  is  not;  that  he  must  take  his  feet 
down  and  sit  along.  The  liberty  of  this  lout  is  the  "  liberty  " 
which  our  shrewd,  grasping,  vulgar  autocrats  glorify,  for  it 
means  the  predominance  of  their  interests  over  ever3"body^  else's 
interests,  over  the  General  Welfare.  It  is  in  the  name  of  that 
"liberty  "  that  all  fleecing  is  done. 

Of  that  kind  of  liberty  there  always  has  been  too  much  in 
the  world — somewhere.  That  kind  of  liberty  means  slavery 
to  somebody;  means  as  the  Yankee  defined  it  "  to  do  what  he 
liked  and  make  everybody  else." 

Every  struggle  for  real  liberty  has  been  a  struggle  against 
that  sort  of  "  Liberty,"  entrenched  in  classes.  Progress  de- 
mands the  curbing  of  that  kind  of  "  liberty,"  and  our  Com- 
monwealth will  use  no  gloves  in  handling  it. 

The  fact  is.  there  is  a  radical  difference  between  liberty  to 
do  the  right  thing  and  liberty  to  do  the  wrong  thing.  That 
is  why  young  Spencer  could  not  draw  any  sound  conclusion 
from  his  so-called  "  principle :  "  "  that  every  man  has  freedom 
to  do  all  that  he  wills  provided  he  does  not  infringe  on  the 
like  freedom  of  any  other  man,"  be(tause  no  one  can  do  any 
wrong  act,  without  doing  harm  to  other  men;  or  as  Professor 
Huxley  puts  it:  "The  higher  the  state  of  civilization, 
the  more  completely  do  the  actions  of  one  member  of  the  so- 
cial body  influence  all  the  rest,  and  the  less  possible  is  it  for 
one  man  to  do  a  wrong  thing  without  interfering,  more  or  less, 


THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE.  97 

with  the  freedom  of  all  his  fellow-citizens.'' 
As  Liberty  is  such  a  hazy  term,  why  use  it  at  all,  wh(  n  we  have 
such  a  glorious  word  in  the  English  language  as  i^/TecZo77^? 
There  is  the  same  ditFcrence  between  '*  Libert}'-"  and  *'  Free- 
dom ■"  as  between  *•  Right "  and  *''  Might,"  between  '•  Fiction  " 
and"  Fact,"  between  *•  Shadow  and  ••  Substauce." 

'•Freedom"  is  something  substantial.  A  man  who  is  igno- 
rant is  not  free.  A  man  who  is  a  tramp  is  not  free.  A  man 
who  sees  his  wife  and  children  starving  is  not  free.  A  man 
who  must  toil  twelve  liours  adny,  in  order  to  vegetate,  is  not 
free.  A  man  wdio  is  full  of  cares  is  not  free.  A  wage-worker, 
whether  laborer  or  clerk,  wiio  every  day  for  certain  hours 
must  be  at  the  beck  and  call  of  a  "  master  "  is  not  free.  As 
Shelley  says  in  the  Apostrophe  to  Freedom. 

"For  the  laborer  thou  art  bread." 

"Right  so  far.  But  Freedom  is  not  alone  bread,  but  leisure, 
absence  of  cares,  self-determination,  ability  and  means  to  do 
the  right  thing  .  Restraint  very  often  is  just  requisite  to  de- 
velop that  ability;  indeed,  Restraint  is  the  very  life  of  Free- 
dom. 

Freedom  is  something  the  individual  unaided  can  never 
achieve,  lie  is  as  drift-wood  in  a  flood.  It  is  somt.'thing  to 
be  conferred  on  him  by  a  well  oi'ganized  bod}'  politic. 

Now  certain  people  have  altogether  too  much  ''liberty." 
Our  Commonwealth  will  evolve  that  priceless  good :  Fkkedom. 

This  is  by  no  means  a  finished  Humanity,  but  there  is  a  con- 
stant unfolding,  a  steady  advance  towards  completeness  and 
perfection.  True,  this  or  that  Nation  may  decay,  but  some 
other  Nation  then  comes  to  the  rescue.  All  that  Socialists  un- 
dertake to  do  is  to  ascertain  the  sevf^ral  stages  so  far  reached 
by  Humanity  on  its  onward  march,  therefrom  to  infer  the 
next  advance  that  will  be  made  by  some  one  of  the  social  or- 
ganisms in  the  van  of  progress,  and  then  they  rev  trently  pro- 
pose to  help  Humanity  in  taking  the  next  step.  They  fidl 
well  know  that  all  that  individuals  can  do  is  to  aid  or  cheek 
that  onward  movement,  but  that  to  stop  it  is  even  beyond  a 
Czar's  control. 


98  THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE. 

We  have  observed  that  it  is  round  the  workhig-classes  thai 
the  battle  of  progress  has  beeiiwa^ed;  their  condition  has 
determined  the  stage  of  civilization,  though  history  has  ^iven 
but  scant  account:  of  thoni.  Dui'ing  the  two  groat  periods 
that  lie  behind  us  :  Slavery  and  Serfdom,  they  were  in  fact 
and  in  law  subject  to  their  lords  who  took  the  lion's  share 
without  disguise,  as  a  matter  of  right.  Based  on  that  subjec- 
tion, however,  there  was  an  intense  feeling  of  Unity  which 
pervaded  the  wdiole  of  Society  ;  a  Unity  tliat  made  these  sj'S- 
tems  so  strong  and  so  lasting,  and  witliout  which  Unity  no 
social  system  can  be  enduring.  But  men  rebelled  against  the 
subjection.  Luther  was  fortunate  enough  to  start  that  rebel- 
lion in  the  religious  sphere,  for  it  is  always  at  the  top  that 
all  radical  changes  coninionce. 

Tlien  was  inaugurated  the  era  in  which  we  are  living,  which 
really  is  nothing  but  a  transition  period  between  the  two  great 
systems  of  the  past  and  another  great  system  of  the  Inture, 
for  it  possesses  no  unity.  It  corresponds  exactly  to  the  transi- 
tion-period betweeen  Slavery  and  Serfdom,  when  Chiistianity 
was  striving  for  mastery.  It  is  an  era  of  anarchy,  of  criticism, 
of  negations,  of  opposition,  of  hypocrisy,  as  this  was  one. 
Instead  of  Slavery  or  Serfdom  and  Subjection  we  now  have 
the  wage-system  and  contracts.  That  is  to  say,  while  for- 
merly the  lords  appropriated  the  results  of  labor 
openly,  they  now  do  it  underhandodly.  Tlie  wage-work- 
er, if  he  will  live,  must  agree  ta  reltiiqiiish  one-half  of  what 
he  produces.  There  is,  m  fact,  fully  as  much  subjection  now 
as  formerly,  but  it  has  taken  on  a  softer,  a  more  hypocritic 
form.  That  is  why  the  rebellion  not  only  continues,  but  has 
reached  down  into  the  material  sphere  and  is  shaking  tiie  very 
foundation  of  Society.  It  will  not  cease  before  all  slavish 
6ul)jection  is  done  away  with. 

Then  tliis  ^'  Individu  .lism,"  this  re-action  against  unques- 
,  iioned  submission,  will  find  its  compensation  in  another  Unity. 
Everybody  will  again  feel  a  dread  of  living  for  himself  only. 
We  shall  have  Corporate  liesponsibility^  Equality^  Freedom^  all 
three  combined  inlNTEU-DEPENDENCE,  Social  Cooperation. 
It  is  with  the  Social  organism  as  with  a  harmoniously  devel- 


THE  SPHERE  OF  THE  STATE.  99 

oped  man,  who  has  three  stages  of  growth :  implicit  obedi- 
ence, then  restless  self-assertion,  at  last  intelligent.,  loyai  co- 
operation with  what  has  a  rightful  claim  to  liis  allegiance. 

This  Inter-dependence  will  find  its  practical   expression  in 
The  Cooperative  Commonwealth,  which  in  the  following 

chapter  will  l)e  seen  to  be  now  expedient,  for  the  Jirat  timc  in 
human  historif. 


CHAPTER  V. 


EXPEDIENCY  OF  THE  COOPERATIVE   CO^IMONWEALTH. 


'•  The  relations  of  stmctnres  are  actually  such,  that,  by  the 
help  of  a  central  reo^ulalive  system,  each  organ  is  supplied 
with  blood  ill  proportion  to  the  work  it  does."  —  Herbert 
Spencer. 

•"No  thinking  man  will  controvert,  that  associated  industry 
is  tlie  most  powerful  agent  of  production,  and  that  the  piinci- 
ple  of  association  is  susceptible  of  further  and  benelicial  de- 
velopment."— J.  S.   Mill. 

''''  All  human  interests,  combined  human  endeavors  and  so- 
cial growths  in  this  world,  have  at  a  certain  stage  of  their  de- 
velopment required  organizing;  and  work,  the  grandest  of 
human  interests,  does  now  require  it." — Carlyle. 

We  now  have  reached  our  objective  point :  the  Cooperative 
Commonwealth. 

The  previous  chapters  were  mere  stepping-stones,  leading  ua 
to  where  we  are,  but  as  such  indispensable,  for  it  is  their  reason- 
ing, raiher  than  its  own  reasonableness,  which  will  determine 
whether  the  Socialist  System  is  to  be.  like  Thomas  More's 
imaginary  island,  a  ''  Utopia:  "  an  un-reality^  or  not. 

The  oI)sei-vation  in  our  Declaration  of  Independence  *'that 
mankind  are  more  disposed  to  sutler  while  evils  are  sulTerable 
thiiu  to  riglit  themselves  by  abolishuig  the  forms  to  wliich 


THE  COOPERATIVE  C0:vIM:0N\VE  VLTH.  101 

they  are  accustomed"  is  true  of  changes  in  forms  of  govern- 
ment, but  much  more  true  of  alterations  in  tlie  structure  of 
Society.  To  these,  in  fact.  Nations  must  be  driven  by  an  in- 
ward necessity. 

For  this  reason  we  had  to  show  that  the  present  chaotic  sys- 
tem, with  all  instruments  of  Labor  in  private  hands,  will  soon 
become  unbearable  and  renders  a  change  of  some  Icind  inev- 
itably impending.  For  this  reason,  further,  we  had  to  point 
out  the  signifir-ance  of  the  recent  factory  and  educational  leg- 
islation and  State-action  in  regard  to  railroads  and  telegraphs, 
accomplished  or  proposed  in  our  country  and  Great  Britain, 
and  to  show  that  this  extension  of  the  State's  activity  was  a 
sign  that  Society  is  approaching  a  crisis  in  its  development; 
an  indication  that  this  transitory  state  in  which  we  are  living, 
after  having  lasted  about  as  long  as  thatother  transitory  state 
between  Paganism  and  Christianity,  is  on  the  point  of  crys- 
tallizing into  another  enduring  Social  Order. 

These  reflections  will  make  it  clear — and  we  cannot  lay  too 
much  stress  upon  it — that  INIodern  Socialists  do  uot  pretend  to 
be  architects  of  the  New  Order.  That  is  to  say;  they  do  not 
propose  to  demolish  the  present  order  of  things,  as  we  tear 
down  an  old  building,  and  then  compel  hutnanity  to  rear  a  new 
edifice  according  to  any  plan  that  they  have  drawn.  They 
have  no  such  absurd  idea,  just  because  they  know  that  Society 
is  not  an  edifice  at  all,  but  an  organism;  and  men  are  not  in 
the  habit  of  "planning"  the  development  of  a  dog  or  a  rosebush. 

Right  here  is  the  radical  distinction  between  us.  Socialists 
of  the  German  school,  and  such  Socialists  as  St.  Simon  and 
P'ourier.  These  had  the  same  faults  to  find  with  the  present 
social  order  as  we  have;  they  were,  indeed,  capital  critics,  bus 
as  reformers  they  were  miserable  failures  simply  because  they 
wanted  to  be  architects — inventors.  They  entirely  ignored  all 
social  and  political  conditions  and  wanted  mankind  to  don  their 
ready-made  systems  as  men  do  ready-made  clothes.  Fourier 
fancied  that  hie  had  only  to  publish  his  system  and  all  classes 
of  Frenchmen  would  eagerly  embrace  it  and  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye  transform  all  France  into  ''  phalansteries."    St.   Si- 


102  EXPEDIENCY  OF 

mon    went  even  to  the  length  of  havhig  his  first  scheme  i)atent- 
ed. 

They  antl  all  the  old-style  socialists  represent  the  childhood, 
of  our  movement,  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  it  as  astrology 
and  alchemy  do  to  ])hysical  science.  All  gi-eat  changes  that 
have  taken  place  in  the  world  liave  had  to  pass  through  a 
"  Utopian  "pliase.  These  primitive  Socialists  were  true  *' Uto- 
pists :  "  they  invented  Systems ;  we  are  intent  on  discovering 
the  laws  of  development.  They  framed  universal  precepts ; 
we  ascertain  universal  sequences. 

For  what  is  ''the  Cooperative  Commonwealth?" 

Extend  in  your  mind  Division  of  Labor  and  all  the  other 
factors  that  increase  the  productivity  of  Labor;  apply  them 
to  all  human  pursuits  as  far  as  can  be;  iinagine  manufactures, 
transportation  and  commerce  conducted  on  the  grandest  possi- 
ble scale,  and  in  the  most  effective  manner;  then  add  to  Di- 
vision of  Labor  its  complement:  Cokcert;  mtroQnce adjust- 
ment everywhere  where  now  there  is  anarchy;  add  thnt  central 
regulative  st/stein  which  Spencer  says,  distinguishes  all  highly 
organized  structures,  and  which  supolies  '•  each  organ  with 
blood  in  proportion  to  the  work  it  does  "  and — behold  the  Co- 
operative COMMONWEALTH  I 

The  Cooperative  Commonwealth,  then,  is  that  future  Social 
Order — the  natuial  heir  of  the  present  one — in  which  all  im- 
portant instruments  of  production  have  been  taken  under  col- 
lective control;  in  which  the  citizens  are  consciously  public 
functionaries,  and  in  wliich  their  labors  are  rewarded  accord- 
ing to  results. 

A  definition  is  an  argument. 

It  shows  that  our  critics,  when  they  style  Socialism  a  Utopia, 
do  not  know  about  what  they  are  talking.  We  can  imagine  a 
caterpillar,  more  knowing  than  its  fellows,  predicting  to  an- 
other that  some  day  they  both  will  be  butterllies,  and  the  oth- 
er sneeringly  replying:  ''  What  Utopian  nonsense  you  are  talk- 
ing there!  "  Our  censoi*s  are  just  as  ignorant  of  the  ground- 
work of  Socialism.  For  our  definition  makes  it  evident  that 
the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  prod- 
uct of  personal  conceit,  but  as  an  historical  product,  as  a  pruii- 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMMOXWEx\LTH.  103 

uct  in  which  our  whole  people  are  unconscious  partakers. 
AVlien  the  times  are  ripe  for  Social  Cooperation,  it  will  be  just 
as  expedient,  as  Feudalism  Avas,  or  as  Private  Enterprise  was, 
when  each,  respectivel}'^,  made  its  apj)earance.  It  will  prove  its 
right  to  control  by  virtue  of  its  own  superior  fitness. 

Or  is  there  anything  Utopian  in  predicting  that  Division  of 
Labor  will  go  on  increasing?  Has  not  wholesale  production 
already  vindicated  its  right  to  be  the  ruling  system,  and  is  it 
Utopian  to  assert  that  Private  Ownership  of  Capital,  so  far 
from  being  necessary  to  production  in  wholesale,  will  prove  a 
greater  and  greater  obstruction  to  its  inevitable  development? 
Is  it  Utopiau  to  expect  that  all  enterprises  will  become  more 
and  more  centralized,  until  in  the  fulness  of  time  they  all  end 
in  one  monoj)oly,  that  of  Society?  Are  not,  indeed.  Anti-mo^ 
nopolists — as  far  as  the}''  believe  that  they  can  crush  the  bi^ 
establishments  or  even  i)revent  their  growth — the  real  Uto- 
pists? 

But  that  is  by  no  means  all.  We  have  not  yet  sufficiently 
emphasized  the  central  fact  of  Society  of  to-day.  Not  alone  is 
the  necessity  which  we  claim  will  drive  the  nations  into  So- 
cialism steadily  growing,  but  all  civilized  Societies  are  being 
driven  into  Socialism  under  our  very  eyes — if  we  niaj'  apply  the 
word  ''  driven  "  to  an  iinvard  impulse.  Not  alone  are  the  con- 
ditions for  the  establishment  of  the  New  Order  fast  ripening, 
hue  the  New  Order  is  amongst  us  and  asserting  itself  vigor- 
ously. Not  only  is  the  social  organism  growing  from  the  cir- 
cumference by  Society  multiplying  and  subdividing  its  activ- 
ities and  again  concenti-ating  them,  but  the  central  regulativo 
system  has  silently  put  in  an  appearance  and  is  irresistiblj^  or- 
ganizing one  social  activity  after  another.  This  is  a  fact.,  of 
transcendent  significance'.,  and  yet  our  politicians,  the  gentle- 
men of  our  *•  editorial  staffs,"  our  would-be-wise  leaders  and 
statesmen,  all,  indeed,  except  Socialists,  seem  not  to  have  the 
smallest  inkling  of  it.  They  all  look  upon  the  factory  legis- 
lation across  the  ocean  and  here  and  the  agitation  for  nation- 
alization of  the  land  and  national  control  of  the  telegraphs  as 
isolated,  rash  expedients,  and  those  who  have  adopted  the 
accepted  theories  forthwith  condenm  this  legislation  and  a^i- 


104  EXPEDIENCY  OF 

t.'itioii  and  loudly  proclaim  that  Socictj'- — is  going  astray ! 

But  the  fact  is,  that  our  modern  civilization  maiidy  consists 
in  this  that  the  State — that  is,  Society  in  its  organized  form — 
lias  of  late  been  constantly  expanding  its  jtu-isdiction.  and 
has  more  and  more  contracted  the  sphere  of  individual  own- 
ership and  control.  Why,  nearly  everything  the  State  now 
manages  for  us,  was  once  entrusted  to  private  individuals. 

Consider,  criminal  jurisprudence  was  once  in  private  hands, 
and  was  the  first  in  time  to  be  taken  in  charge  by  the  State. 
Tliere  was  a  time  when  the  customs  and  national  finances  were 
farmed  out  to  private  persons,  but  that  time  is  long  passed  by. 
Then  the  State  turned  its  attention  to  postal  aftairs,  and  they 
are  now  everj'where  under  national  control.  The  world  has 
entii-ely  forgotten  that  these  affairs  once  were  private  enter- 
prises, simply  because  the  State  has  managed  them  so  much 
batter  than  was  formally  done.  The  whole  struggle  between 
State  and  Church  is  also  here  in  point;  the  principal  conse- 
quence of  that  struggle  has  been  that  nearly  all  civilized  States 
have  taken  charge  of  education,  which  undoubtedly  will  also 
Aoon  in  our  country  be  a  matter  of  national  concern.  There 
are  still  other  matters,  in  which  the  older  States  of  Europe  in 
this  development  are  ahead  of  us :  national  control  of  railroads 
and  telegraphs.  And  in  proposing  that  the  State  shall  insure 
workingmen  against  accidents  and  against  want  in  their  old 
age,  Bismark  is  virtually  impelled  by  the  same  spirit,  rather 
than  by  any  concern  for  the  welfare  of  the  working-classes. 

This  fact  of  *••  the  centrallzition  of  Power  in  the  National 
Government,"  as  it  is  called,  is  the  central  fact  of  Society 
everywhere  now.  You  may  deny  everything  else,  but  you 
caimot  deny  that.  You  caiuiot  look  at  a  democratic  paper 
without  seeing  a  lament  over  the  fact.  The  Democrats,  though, 
are  giving  undue  credit  to  the  Republlcaup,  in  charging  it  to 
their  account,  for  they  were  but  humble  instruments  in  the 
hands  of  the  laws  of  the  Universe;  if  the  Democrats  should 
come  into  power,  they  would  have  to  be  ""  eentralizers  ''  to  the 
^ame  extent.  The  social  organism  has  once  for  all  got  the 
impetus  in  that  direction,  and  the  movement  is  gathering 
greater  momentum.    That  is  why  it  is  now  everywhere  iu  the 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMMONWEALTH.  105 

air.    That  is  why  this  ftict  is  the  lr\ie  rationale  of  Socialism. 

The  cry:  "Beware,  it  is  Socialistic!^''  will  have  absolutely 
no  eflect.  The  State  will  go  on  expanding  its  jurisdiction,  hur- 
ry on  to  its  destiny,  witliout  asking  or  caring  if  it  is  '*  SociaU 
istic."  The  workingnien  and  gi'angers  will  continue  to  im- 
portune the  State  to  coine  to  their  relief,  without  knowing 
anything  about  Socialism.  Henry  George  has  written  a  book 
that  has  enticed  very  many  persons  very  far  out  on  the  road 
to  Socialism,  protesting  all  the  time  that  he  is  not  a  Socialist. 
Frederic  Harrison  abominates  Socialism,  and  yet  preaclies 
"  Look  to  the  State !  From  that  you  can  expect  the  highest 
experience  and  skill,  publicity,  concentration  of  power,  n-al 
and  efficient  control,  a  national  aim  and  sj)iiit  and  far  more 
trne  responsibility." 

I'>ut  it  is  evident  that  the  process  of  placing  all  industries 
and  all  instruments  of  labor  under  collective  control  will  be 
carried  on  with  far  more  energy  and  directness,  when  once 
the  true  leaders  learn  that  the  State  is  not  some  power  out- 
side of  the  people,  but  that  it  is  the  social  organism  itself,  and 
that,  as  an  organism,  it  is  destined  to  grow  until  it  cmbrnces  all 
social  activities.  Hitherto  the  State  has  acted  from  impulse, 
in  opposition  to  accepted  theories.  But  a  logical  foundationol 
some  sort  is  necessary  to  all  great  movements.  Rousseau's 
theory  of  a'^Social  Contract,"  though  false,  did  in  that  way  a 
great  service  to  Humanity. 

The  New  Social  Order  to  which  we  look  forward  is  thus, 
certainly,  the  ver}^  reverse  of  Utopian.  As  a  historical  prod- 
uct from  every  point  of  view  we  consider  it.  it  will  be  a  natur- 
al product,  hence  rational.  ''Whatever  is,  is  rational" 
Hegel  said  ;  that  is,  it  necessarily  conforms  to  the  innermost 
nature  of  things;  and  so:  whatever  is  to  be  is  rational.  As 
soon  as  the  people  learn  not  to  be  scared  by  the  word  '*  So- 
cialism;" as  soon  as  they  learn  the  true  nature  of  the  State 
and  see  whither  they  are  drifting,  the  Cooperative  Common- 
wealth will  be  ,  the  only  expedient  system.  But  it  certainly 
was  not  expedient  when  L*lato  wrote  his  Bepublic;  it  was  not 
expedient,  but  it  icas  a  ''Utopia"  in  the  times  of  Thomas 
More;  it  was  not  expedient  when  St.  Simon  ''invented"   bis 


106  ExrEDiExcr  of 

Bystem,  for  Private  Enterprise  with  the  steam  engine  and  oth- 
er Inventions  had  lirst  to  Increase  tlie  prodnctlve  capacity  of 
man  a  thousand  times,  and  thus  to  ])rcp:ire  the  way  tor  it. 
And  when  it  becomes  expedient,  it  will  be  so  for  tlie  tirst  time 
in  human  liistory. 

When  tlie  Cooperative  Commonwealth  bocomes  an  accom- 
plished fact  we  shall  have  the  lull-grown  Society;  the  normal 
State.  That  commonwealth — whose  citizens  will,  consciously 
and  avo  vedly  be  public  functionaries — will  not  know  of  a 
particle  of  distinction  between  the  terms  ''  State  "  and  '*  Soci- 
ety;  "  the  two  ideas  will  come  to  cover  each  other,  will  be- 
come synonymous.  It  will  be  a  social  order  that  will  endure 
as  long  as  Society  itself,  for  no  higher  evolution  is  thinkable, 
except  Organized  Humanity,  and  that  is  but  Social-Coopei-a- 
tlon  extended  to  the  whole  human  race.  It  will  effect  a  com- 
i:)lete  regeneration  of  Society :  in  its  economic,  politic  and 
juridic  relations;  in  the  condition  of  wonea  and  in  the  edu- 
cation of  youth  (ind?ed  its  chief  concern,  its  true  starting 
point;)  in  morals  and,  we  may  add,  in  religion  and  philoso- 
phy. The  remainder  of  this  treatise  will  draw  in  barest  out- 
line this  normal  State  in  th«'se  various  relations,  in  the  order 
above  nam(id,  for  the  economic  features  are  the  foundation  of 
every  social  system,  out  of  which  grow  all  the  others,  morals 
and  religion  last  ot  all.  It  is,  as  we  once  observed,  at  the  top  : 
in  morals  and  philosoi)hy.  that  all  changes  from  one  Social 
Order  to  another  commence,  fi-om  whence  they  insinuate  them- 
selves down  to  the  material  conditions;  there  the  change  of 
base  takes  place  and  the  new  superstructure  is  then  gradually 
built  up.  Therefore,  also,  we  defined  our  system  in  econo- 
mic terms  alone. 

If  now  Social-Cooperation  is  that  to  which  we  are  certain- 
ly drifting,  it  is  undeniably  the  wiser  course,  instead  of  calling 
it  names,  to  inquire  if  not  that  which  is  ''socialistic"  may 
also  be  good,  and  to  try  to  find  out  the  ch.iracter  of  that  New 
Itcrjime.  We  shall  therefore  here  suggest  theuMst  notable  re- 
spects in  which  its  economic  features  are  likely  to  promote  the 
soeial  welfare. 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMftlON WEALTH.  107 

It  must  be  evident  to  every  fair-miiideLl  man  tluit  this  New 
Order — where  every  worker  will  be  reiiianerated  according  to 
results — is  in  no  sense  communistic.  Socialism  and  Coniniun- 
ism  are.  in  foct,  two  radically  different  systems;  and  yet  they 
are  constantly  confounded,  even  by  well-infTrmed  people. 
We  wish  W3  could  in  a  serious  work  like  this  entirely  ignore 
the  vulgar  conception  of  Communism:  that  it  pro[)Oses  '-to 
divide  all  property  intD  eipial  parts,"  but  when  a  man  like 
Prof.  Fawcett  of  England  gives  currency  to  this  vulgarism  in 
ihese  very  words  and  tlien  proceeds  to  lecture  us,  saying: 
*•  if  the  State  divided  all  lands  among  the  inhabitants,  there 
would  gradually  arise  the  sasne  iaequ.ility  of  wealth  which 
exists  now,"  we  must  notice  it  sufficiently  to  say  that  now-a- 
days  no  one  outside  of  a  lunatic  asylum  proposes  any  such 
thing,  and  that  Prof.  Fawcett  ought  to  know  it. 

The  Oommunis.n  we  refer  to  is  that  practised  by  the  Shakers 
and  similar  bodies,  bound  together  by  some  form  of  religious 
belief  or  unbelief.  Their  peculiar  meth  od  of  giving  practical 
effect  to  their  doctrines  is  different  from  om-«;  w^e  believe  that 
to  retire  from  the  world,  as  they  do,  is  a  poor  way  of  reform- 
ing the  world;  we  believe  it  is  with  refor-nsrs  as  with  yeast: 
it  must  be  mixed  witiithe  dough  to  act  upon  it ;  if  kept  to  itself, 
it  spoils.  But  then-  principles— in  wliicli  they  agree  Avith  po- 
litical communists — are  diametrically  opposed  t  >  ours.  Com- 
munists make  nil  property  common  propert3%  while  our  Com- 
monwealth will  place  only  the  iastniments  of  production — land, 
machinery,  raw-materials  &c. — under  collective  control.  They 
require  every  one  to  do  his  share  of  labor,  and  allow  him  to 
consume  as  he  needs.  Our  Comuionwealth  leaves  everybody 
at  perfect  liberty  to  work  as  much  or  as  little  as  he  pleases, 
or  not  at  all,  but  makes  his  consumption  ex.ictly  commensur- 
ate with  his  performances.  Adam  Smith  observed  that  "the  pro- 
duce of  labor  is  the  natural  recompense  of  Labor"  and  St.  Paid 
laid  it  down  :  '•  whoever  does  not  work,  neither  shall  he  eat " 
and  the  New  System — as  our  definition  points  out — will  put 
these  doctrines  into  practice. 

In  short,  the  motto  of  Socialism  is  :  •'  Everj^body  accord- 
ing tD  his  deeds]  "  that  of  Communism  is:    "Everybody  ac« 


108  EXPEDIENCY  OF 

cordino;  to  his  needs.''''  The  communist  motto  is  undoubtedly 
a  very  generous  one,  more  generous  than  ours  ;  but  our  motto 
is  more  just,  tulviiig  human  nature  as  it  is, — and  the  fact  that  So- 
cialists take  huni;in  nature  as  it  is,  is  just  their  merit.  In- 
deed, if  we  define  Capitalism  as  the  fleecing  of  the  weak  by 
tlie  strong.  Communism  might  be  said  to  be  a  fleecing  of  the 
strong  by  the  weak,  an  observation  already  made  bj^  Proud- 
hon  ;  tliougli  the  '^  strong  "  under  our  system  simply  means 
those  buoyed  up  to  the  top,  while  under  the  latter  system 
tliey  would  mean  the  truly,  physically  or  intellectually,  strong. 

Communism  must  therefore  plead  guilty  to  the  charges : 
first,  that  it  means  to  abolish  the  institution  of  property  and, 
next,  that  it  must  result  i;i  crushing  out  all  ii)dividualit3\ 
Socialism  not  only  will  do  neither  of  these  things  but  the 
very  reverse.  I  nstead  of  t  aking  property  away  from  everybody, 
it  loill  enable  ever;/bodf/  to  acquire  property.  It  will  truly  sanc- 
tify the  institution  of  individual  ownership  by  placing  prop- 
erty on  an  unimpeachable  basis:  that  of  being  ?Ae  reswZ^  o/ 
o»e's  individual  exertions.  Thereby  it  will  afford  the  very 
mightiest  stimulus  for  individuality  to  unfold  itself.  Proper- 
ty will  belong  to  its  possessor  by  the  strongest  of  all  titles, 
to  be  enjoyed  as  he  thinks  proper,  hut  not  to  be  used  as  an  in- 
strument of  fleecing  his  fellow-citizens. 

Next  let  us  pass  in  review  one  of  the  chief  industries  after 
^rlOther  and  note  the  most  obvious  advantagf^s  that  will  flow 
from  Social  Cooperation.  But  especially  here  will  our  motto 
apply:  that  "  our  purpose  is  not  to  make  people  read  but  to 
make  them  think.*'  For  the  experience  of  our  readers  will 
naturally  supply  them  with  innumerable  other  cases  in  point; 

Take,  first,   manufactures. 

Suppose  then*  are  at  present  in  a  given  city  a  hundred  blacli- 
smiths,  who  together  emploj'  four  hundred  men.  The  hundred 
bosses  spend  necessarilj'-  a  great  deal  of  their  time  in  seeking 
jobs.  In  this  pursuit  they  are  constantly  thwarting  each  oth- 
er's purposes,  and  trying  to  beat  each  other.  When  in  theii 
sh()i>s,  they  liave  directions  to  give,  estimates  to  pi-epare,  let- 
ters to  write  and  bills  to  make  out.     They  all  perform  a  labor- 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMMONWEALTH  109 

ious  and  necessary  work,  and  yet  the  productive  result  of  tlieii 
work  isvorj-  insignificant. 

Again,  tlicse  liundred  employers  have  a  hundred  diiferent 
shops,  a  hundred  different  fire-places,  which  take  up  very 
much  space  and  use  up  very  much  fuel.  The  money  spent 
in  renting  these  shops,  in  constructing  these  fireplaces 
and  bellows  and  for  the  fuel  which  is  thus  wasted,  would 
be  suflicient  to  build  a  most  magnificent  cooperative  factory 
in  which  these  bosses  and  wage-workers  might,  as  co- 
operative workers,  find  steady  and  remunerative  employment. 

Again,  in  these  hundred  shops  there  are  a  number  of  tools 
and  machines  that  might  be  reduced  immensely,  if  these  five 
hundred  blacksmiths  worked  in  common;  while,  on  the  oth- 
er hand,  a  good  many  machines  and  implements  could  be  in- 
troduced into  such  a  co-operative  factory  which  at  present 
even  the  richest  of  those  employers  is  not  able,  or  at  least  not 
willing  to  procure,  because  even  his  business  is  not  large 
enough  to  warrant  the  outlay. 

Add  to  this  that  very  seldom  a  man  is  a  good  artisan  and  a 
good  man  of  business,  and  it  will  be  evident  from  this  exam- 
ple, that  if  all  manufacturing  enterprises  were  concentrated 
to  the  same  extent  that  we  might  imagine  this  smithing  busi- 
ness concentrated,  the  dispensing  with  much  useless,  and  there- 
fore unproductive  work,  the  reduction  in  operative  expenses 
and  especially  the  most  fruitful  division  of  Labor  which  could 
be  inaugurated  would  immensely  enrich  Society.  Every  largo 
factoiy  which  arises  on  the  ruia  of  the  shops  of  the  small  ar- 
tisans we  consider  an  advance  in  civilization,  simply  because 
the  more  production  is  being  organized  on  a  large  scale,  the 
easier  it  will  be  f  jr  tiie  associated  workers,  by  the  authority 
of  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth,  to  take  charge  of  it.  and 
secure  to  themselves  the  utmost  benefit  of  inventions,  ma- 
chinery and  division  of  employments. 

Further:  At  present  our  hundred  bosses  are  frequently 
in  financial  embarrassment;  but  few  of  them  accumulate  » 
competence  for  their  old  age;  many  succumb  to  competitiou 
and  crises,  while  their  workmen  are  nothing  but  wage-slaves, 
having  violent  periods  of  overwork,  followed  by  long  and  ter- 


1 10  EXPEDIENCY  OF 

ribie  stagnation.  The  working  in  concert  under  the  Cooper- 
ative Cotiimonwealtli  will  reduce  all  risk,  all  crises,  all  pro- 
duction beyond  the  effective  demand,  to  a  minimum. 

Peter  and  Paul  run  risks,  because  the  cannibals  Jolui  and 
James  stand  ready  to  eat  them  up  at  a  given  opportunity.  But 
the  whole  prodnctioii  of  a  country  in  any  given  branch  need 
run  hardl}^  any  risk  at  all.  Do  away  with  tlie  secrecy  which 
now  obtains  in  our  manufacturing  establishments,  shut  up 
those  gambling  shoi^s  :  the  stock  and  produce-exchanges;  let 
scientitic  statistics  be  taken  of  the  demand  and  supply  in  all 
parts  of  the  country,  and  elsewhere  if  practicable;  in  other 
words  :  introduce  systematic  work  instead  of  planless  work,  and 
crises  and  "'overproduction"  will  be  next  to  impossible.  What- 
ever losses  may  occur  from  inaccuracies  in  statistics  or  una- 
voiiable  mishaps  will  be  almost  inappreciable,  being  borne 
by  the  whole  cciuitry.  Thus,  our  Commonwealth  will  be 
what  a  Commonwealth  ought  to  be:  die  General  Insurance 
Company ;  but  of  that  more  hereafter. 

The  advajitages  of  the  Commonwealth  being  the  sole  Mer- 
chant are  evid  Mit :  they  will  be  all  that  our  grangers  and  vol- 
untary cooperationists  are  in  the  habit  of  expecting  from  their 
schemes  and  not  include  one  of  the  disadvantages,  which,  in 
a  previous  chapter,  we  saw  necessarily  resulting  from  these. 
U)ider  our  Connnon  wealth  the  small  shopkeepers,  pedlers. 
commission-mtn'chaiits  and  all  of  that  sort  will  disappear. 
!No  more  need  for  bribing  newspapers  for  puffs;  no  longer 
any  temptation  to  use  lying  labels  or  sell  adulterated  gooda. 
A  bale  ot  coito.i  will  not  as  ii(nv  have  to  be  sold  ten  times 
over  to  get  from  the  producer  into  the  hands  of  thecon>umer; 
nor  will  the  people  of  Philadelphia  be  bled  to  the  extent  of 
$G.r)0  for  a  ton  of  coal  which  only  costs,  all  expenses  and  out- 
lays included,  .^1. 50  at  the  mouth  of  the  mine.  Nevermore 
shall  we  liud  twenty  drugstores  in  a  little  town  that  only  needs 
one. 

No.  indeed!  In  place  of  that  we  slf.all  have  great  perma- 
nent ba/aars.  embracing  all  ])ossible  articles  of  consumption, 
of  vvhicli  stoi-es  like  that  of  Jordan  Marsh  <&  Co.,  ia  IJos- 
ton,  or  still  better  the  one,  oitce  mentioned,  in  Philadelphia  are 


THE  COOPERATIVE  CO^iIMOXWE  \T/ni.  Ill 

only  insignificant  miniature  models — but  thanks  to  tiieir  chiefs 
for  furnishing  us  tliose  models  ! 

Tlie  salesmen  and  saleswomen  in  those  bazaars  will  be  quite 
dilferent  beings  from  those  of  the  present  day,  who  are 
vt  ry  often  slaves  from  morning  till  late  at  niglit.  They  will, 
like  all  other  citizens,  be  independent  human  beings,  with 
plenty  of  leisure  at  their  command. 

The  greatest  gain  to  Society,  however,  in  taking  eontrol  of 
commerce,  will  perhaps  be  found  in  the  suppression  of  that 
talent,  so  peculiar  to  our  Plutocrats  and  seemingly  acquired 
by  them  with  their  mother's  milk:  thefai-ulty of  speculation; 
a  talent  which  contributes  nothing  to  production,  but  whose 
only  end  and  aim  is  the  transfer  of  wealth  from  one  pocket 
into  another.  Xearly  all  workers  are  devoid  of  that  talent. 
The  -New  Kegime  will,  like  the  Man  of  the  New  Testament, 
lash  the  howling  lunatics,  the  brokers  and  cornerers,  out  of 
our  stock-and  other  exchanges,  which  will  be  devoted  to  no- 
bler uses;  for  Cooperation  and  Speculation  are  strangers. 

'•  Trade  " — as  far  as  it  means  the  buying  and  selling  ot  goods 
for  tlie  sake  of  profit — will  at  home  be  changed  into  distribu- 
tion of  the  produce  of  labor  among  the  workers,  and  as  to  for- 
eign countries  into  genuine  commerce  i.  e.  the  exchange  of 
.such  home-products  we  do  not  need  for  such  foreign  products 
we  may  need. 

These  changes  in  manufactures  and  Commerce  will  naturally 
affect  Transportation  in  a  remarkable  degree.  While  now  our 
mails,  railroads,  ships  and  wagons  do  business  for  innumer- 
able priv'ate  concerns,  in  the  New  Commonwealth  they  will  do 
business  for  o»e.onl}^  NV^iat  a  colossal  concentratiork  and  sim- 
plitication  of  Transportation  does  that,  in  itself,  imply !  Bear 
in  mind  simply  the  mass  of  drays  and  wagons  of  every  sort, 
M  hich  now  in  every  one  of  our  populous  cities  choke  up  our 
streets  and  distract  most  peoj^le's  nerves !  Think  of  the  amount 
of  human  and  animal  labor  now  absolutely  wasted  in  this 
way  I  It  might,  indeed,  be  dillicult  for  those  now  living  to 
recognize  the  aspect  of  our  cities,  to  be  brought  about  by  this 
Binqjlitication.  alone,  under  the  new  order  of  things.  Eveu 
New  York  may  thereby  become  a  clean  city. 


112  EXPEDIENCY  OF 

Transportation  itself,  of  course,  will  betaken  under  coll'ict* 
ive  control,  and  thus  the  radical  wrong  undone  of  granting 
public  concessions  to  individuals  for  the  express  purpose  of 
making  our  highway's  subseivient  to  private  interests.  For 
what  are  now  our  railway  corporations  but  a  clique  of  persons 
empowered  by  law  to  use  these  highways,  in  the  first  place,  for 
their  010)1  beuejit,  and  only  incidentally  for  the  public  conven- 
ience? 

It  is  just  as  easy  to  demonstrate  the  vast  superiority  of  so- 
cial-cooperative farming  over  the  present  style. 

The  prevailing  isolated  mode  of  Agriculture  wastes  an  im- 
mense amount  of  human  and  animal  labor,  of  time  and  of  ma- 
terials. >Yhat  an  economy  would  there  not  be  in  having  one 
large  stable,  one  large  yard,  one  large  bam,  in  the  place  of 
one  hundred  stables,  yards  and  barns?  Any  one  can  esti- 
mate for  himself  what  an  enormous  sum  of  money  could 
be  saved  in  one  single  item,  when  he  learns  that  the  fences 
of  Indiana  alone,  if  extended  in  a  single  line,  would  go 
around  the  globe  nearly  14  times,  and  cost  no  less  than  8200,- 
000.000.  How  many  wagons  and  horses  will  not  be  rendered 
supertinous,  when  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  takes 
charge  of  Agriculture?  Ilow  many  persons  will  not  be  made 
available  for  manufacturing  and  other  product  ive  pursuits? 
And  as  to  time,  these  words  of  Professor  Fawcett  are  sugges- 
tive :  ''  It  has  been  calculated,  that  a  steam-cultivator  would 
plough  a  square  tield  of  ten  acres  in  half  the  time,  occupied 
in  plonghing  two  fields  of  five  acres  each,  and  with  two-thirdi 
the  expense." 

But  why  waste  any  words  in  abstract  demonstration?  Do 
not  our  ••  bonanza  farms  "  teach  us  practically  the  lesson  ?  And 
will  not  the  hundreds  of  •'  bonanza  farms"  of  the  near  future, 
eventually  knock  the  lesson  even  into  the  heads  of  our  coun- 
try-cousins? Do  they  not  already  practicall}''  demonstrate, 
that  tliere  are  a  Imndred  things  requisite  for  thorough  f;nnj- 
ing.  that  only  can  be  had  by  cultivation  on  a  grand  scale? 
l>o  not  the  '' creameiies"  thnt  everywhere  are  springing  up 
show  that  butter  and  cheese  can  be  made  nuich  better  and 
more  cheaply  in  one  dairy  than  on  a  hundred  farms? 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMMONWEALTH.  113 

Our  fanners  cannot  help  finding  out  by  and  by,  that  social- 
cooperative  faiming  will  prove  to  tliem  an  immense  benefit, 
simply  in  iiji)iancial  point  of  view. 

It  is  certainly  easy  to  comprehend  that  association,  in  Mill's 
words,  ••  is  the  most  powerful  agent  of  production  " — few 
words  ought  to  sufiice  to  prove  that.  It  ought,  indeed,  to  be 
easy  to  see,  that  tiocial  Cooperation  will  increase  the  total  pro- 
duction of  our  country  at  least  as  much  beyond  the  capability 
of  the  present  system  as  the  latter  surpasses  that  of  the  Mid- 
dle Ages  in  proportion  to  population.  This  it  will  do  by  add- 
ing, simply.  Concert;  by  inoculating  into  the  Social  Organism 
that  central  regulative  system  which  Spencer  finds  in  all  oth- 
er high  organisms,  but  of  which  he  apparently  sees  no  need 
in  the  Social  Organism,  the  highest  of  all.  For  this  Concert, 
this  Regulative  Sj^stera,  will  reduce  immensly  all  operative 
expenses,  in  Ma'iutactures,  in  Exchange,  in  Transportation, 
in  Agriculture:,  it  will  prevent  waste;  it  will  do  away  with 
nearly  all  risk ;  and,  lastly,  it  will  permit,  the  most  advantage- 
ous Division  of  Labor. 

He  is  said  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  benefactors  of  mankind 
who  makes  two  blades  of  grass  grow  where  one  grew  before. 
What  then  is  to  be  said  of  the  men  who  are  determined  to  de- 
velop societ3%  as  quickly  as  possible,  up  to  the  adoptio.i  of  a 
system  of  production,  demanded  by  the  conditions  of  the  age, 
and  which  will  increase,  to  an  unprecedented  degree,  the  net 
results  of  all  onv  industries,  and  evidently  lead  to  innumera- 
ble ttchnical  improvements  in  all  their  branches? 

This  fructification  of  Labor,  will  on  the  first  view  readily 
make  Social  Cooperation  appear  highly  desirable.  lUit  the 
objection,  that  this  increase  of  the  means  of  subsistence  and 
enjoyment  really  means  a  far  greater  "*  overproduction"  than 
lias  3'et  confronted  us,  lies  very  near.  It  is  precisely  the  prin- 
eipal  excellence  of  the  Cooperative  Commonvv^ealth  that  it  will 
cio'dtc  an  effective  demsiud  for  even  the  greatest  imaginable 
production. 

\V^e  said  in  the  preceding  chapter  that  the  full-grown  State 
will  help  every  one  of  its  citizens  to  help  himself.    That,  first 


114  '  ;        EXPEDIENCY  OF 

'  -  > 

of  rtH,  means  th.at  it  will  furnish  emplo3'ment.  producttte  era- 
.    ployment^   aud,  siicli  employment  as  the3\  respectively,  may 
be  best  fitted  for  to  all  citizens;  thus   enablin*^  them    to   pay 
"  "for  'ahythijjg  t)iey.  nii<iy  want  or  wish  for — which  is  what  is 
mfeinit  by  *;  effective  •'  demand. 
!xiftef  what  we  alread\'^  have  remarked  in  re<2rard  to  "  natural 
^^     righcs,"  it  cannot;  be  supposed  that  we  lay  an}'  stress  on  tlie 
*     socalled  natural ','  rii^ht  to  T.abor."    And  j^et  more  can  be  said 
'•  in  favor  of  that  plaim  than  for  any  other  "  natural  right."  Of 
,   !  '■   course  "  right  to  labor  "  is  a  very  inapt  phrase ;  nobody  real- 
;,.,/     ly  complains  of  jiot being sufHciently  burdened  with  toil,     liut 
/       all  know  well  enough   that  it  is  meant  to  assert  a  claim   to   a 
i ;<■.''     decent  livelihood,  to  be  gained  by  profitable  T.abor.    Now,  if 
i'/'..    ,  ,  it  be  once  admitted,  what  even  Herbert  Spencer  affirms,  that 
i\i  :|.  ;(an(l  tS'^he  common  heritage  of  all,  then  there  is  very  griat 
r^       .    force  in' llV'e;ttvgum('nt  of  such  philosophers  as  Fichte  and  Con- 
\:     ,^    I  sidferiint  that '?  those  wiio  are  not  proprietors  of  land  must,  as 
|,i;i  a  compensat'on  for  the  common  property  which  they  have  lost^  be 

\.  '  guaranteeed  the  right  to  labor."  And  communities  have,  as 
^^"^^  a  matter  of  fact,  recognized  the  force  of  that  claim.  Tlie 
Poor-law  of  England  is  a  recognition  of  it.  And,  though  it 
seems  unknown  to  even  professional  lawyers,  a  Pennsylvania 
Statute  provides  as  follows :  '"If  such  poor  person  be  able  to 
work,  but  cannot  find  employment,  it  shall  be  the  duty  of  the 
overseers  to  provide  work  for  him  according  to  his  ability,  and 
f(»r  this  i)urpose  they  shall  procure  suitable  places  and  a  suit- 
able stock  of  materials." 

But  it  should  be  distinctly  understood  that  we  do  not  think 
the  Coming  Commonwealth  will  base  its  action  on  this  ground, 
but  on  quite  another. 

Malthus  says  bluntly,  in  his  ''Essay  on  Population,"  that  tho 
man  born  into  the  world  whose  family  cannot  support  him  rnd 
whose  labor  is  not  in  demand  must  take  himself  away.  '  I'or 
him  there  is  no  cover  laid  at  nature's  table." 

Now  we  alfii'm  that  in  our  Connnon wealth  there  icill  b(  a  de- 
mand for  the  labor  of  evenj  citizen.     Tliis  is  a  proposition  that 
every  one  on  a  little  refiection  will  assent  to. 
Mark !  we  speak  of  productive  labor,  and  mean  thereby  labor 


THE  COOPEIiATIVE  COMMONWEALTH.  115 

that  creates  anything  which  men  desire.  Tliis  desire  is  abso- 
hitely  unlimited.  Tlie  desire  for  certain  staple  articles  of  food 
03*  for  this  or  that  manufactured  article  or  for  a  given  means 
of  enjoyment  may  be  limited,  but  tin;  desire  for  the  products 
of  human  laoor  and  skill  in  general,  physical,  artistic  or  in*"*;]- 
lectual — never. 

The  desire  for — that  is,  the  power  of — consumption  in  the  body 
of  the  citizens  is  thus  boundless.  And  they  will  have  the  means 
to  pay  for  all  there  is  to  consume.  Under  the  New  Order  all 
will  be  productive  Avoikers ;  they  will  be  paid  an  equivalent  tor 
what  they  produce — not  merely  one  half  of  it  as  nov/  under 
the  wage-system — in  some  foi-iu.  Consequently  their  jmr- 
chasing  power  will  in  all  cases  balance  the  total  production. 

There  is  a  demand  for  the  labor  of  every  man  under  any 
well-ordered  Social  l^ystem.  If  thci-e  is  a  waste  of  men  now, 
it  is  the  fault  of  the  Wage-System.  A  slave  was  actually 
worth  what  he  would  fetch,  and  there  were  very  few  slaves 
who  would  fetch  nothing.  Why,  in  a  free  Commonwealth, 
should  men  be  of  less  account?  Cattle  are  valuable .  why  not 
men?  Carlyle  remarks  :.'' a  white  European  man,  standing 
on  his  two  legs,  with  his  tw^o  five-lingered  hands  at  bis  shack- 
le bones  and  miraculous  head  on  his  shoulders,  is  worth,  I 
should  sa3%  from  50  to  100  horses." 

Dy  giving  all  the  idle  employment;  by  putting  all  our  para- 
sites and  superlluous  workers  where  thej^  can  work  product- 
ively, the  Commonwealth  will  create  the  needed  efiective  de- 
mand, and  more  than  that :  The  stock  of  the  good  tl.higs  of 
tliis  life  vyill  thereby  he  very  much  cnZar^e(Z,perliaps  doubled. 

But  do  not  believe,  that  when  we  say  that  the  State  will 
furnish  all  i)rolitable  enq}lo3'ment.  that  we  mean  that  every 
one  will  have  to  do  manual  labor.  Labor  undoubtedl}'-  will 
then  come  to  honor;  work  will  then  be  a  beneficent  law,  and 
not  an  oppressive  rule  as  now,  but  brain-work  will  have  its 
due  weight:  the  New  Commonwealth  will  not  be  u  state  of 
mechanics.  In  all  States  that  at  present  pretend  to  give  its 
citizens  educational  facilities,  it  seems  to  be  entirely  overlooked 
that  education  and  aspiration  go  hand  in  hand.  Our  coun- 
try,  i  1   particular,   whicii  gives  such  of  oiu-  young  men  and 


\\ 


116  EXPEDIENCY    OF 

women  who  can  afford  to  improve  themselves  free  access  to 
hig'h-schools,  colleges  and  uuiversities.  afterwards  leaves  them 
to  scramble  for  a  precarious  existence,  for  which  their  very 
education  has  nnlitted  them;  3'et  an  educated  pauper  is  the 
most  pitiable  subject  of  all.  Our  Commouwealth,  on  the  oth- 
er hand,  will  nourish  the  aspirations  it  has  awakened  ;  it  will 
use  for  its  own  good  the  talents  it  has  matured  and  enable  ev- 
ery man  and  woman  to  develop  his  or  her  peculiar  aptitudes, 
^vhether  it  be  in  brain-work  or  hand-work.  This  fact,  that 
every  citizen  will  be  able  to  follow  his  or  her  peculiar  bent, 
will  also  itself  vastly  increase  the  productive  result  of  all  so- 
cial activities,  for  it  is  well-known  that  a  person  accomplishes 
most  when  he  woi-ks  in  the  line  of  his  greatest  inclination. 

We  may  note  here  that  the  enlargement  of  the  purchasing 
l)ower  of  the  masses  \vill  also  contribute  considerably  to  in- 
crease the  wealth  of  Society  by  materially  changing  the  char- 
acter of  the  demand  from  what  it  is  at  present.  That  is  to  sa}': 
articles  of  use  and  bcautj'  will  more  and  more  crowd  out  the 
costl}^  goods,  wliieh  at  present  are  principally  in  demand  be- 
cause, and  only  because,  they  are  costly  and  by  that  quality 
enable  our  money-aristocracy  to  display  their  wealth. 

It  has  been  computed  that  if  everybody  now  woi'ked  at 
some  useful  calling,  everybody  could  live  in  comfort  on  four 
hours'  daily  labor.  There  is  som<',  good  reason  for  believing 
that  this  computation  is  not  so  very  far  from  being  correct. 
But  who  can  doubt  that  in  the  Coming  Commonwealth,  with 
all  objects  of  desire  thus  increased,  the  hours  of  Labor  could 
be  very  much  reduced,  and  yet  everybody,  willing  to  work 
have  everything  that  heart  could  wish? 

Why  should  anybody  then  object  to  being  restrained  from 
working  more  than  six  or  four  hours  a  day?  That  very  many 
workingmen  should  object  to  such  a  check  on  their  liberty  noiu^ 
when  they  often  are  reduced  to  absolute  want  by  seasons  of 
enforced  idleness,  is  natural  enough  and  may  be  noted  as  the 
inniiovable  stumbling-block  in  the  way  of  those  who  agitate 
for  a  compulsory  eight-hour  law  under  the  present  system. 

In  our  (Jomraonwealth  all  men  and  women  can  be  endowed 
with  that  supreme  good — Leisure^  the  mother  of  Culture.    Ob- 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMMONWEALTH.  117 

serve,  there  is  the  gi  eate-t  difference  in  the  worhl  between 
Leisure  and  Idleness.  The  idler,  whether  poor  or  rich,  lias  no 
leisure,  for  it  means  the  deli<i;htful  liours  reserved  from  some 
regular  employment,  of  not  too  long  duration,  and  which  se- 
cures the  satisfaction  of  all  material  wants. 

Under  the  New  Regime  --Cliarity  "  and  '•  charitable  institu- 
tions" will  be  tilings  of  the  past.  By-the-way,  is  it  not  a 
pity  that  the  noble  word  :  •'  Charity  "  has  in  this  hypocritical 
era  come  to  mean — alma-giving 9  In  our  Commonwealth  no 
alms  will  be  given  ;  hulcod^  notJiiiig  lo ill  be  had  gratis.  Every- 
body will  get  the  full  produce  of  his  labor  in  direct  revenues 
or  in  public  benefit.  Every  citizen  wiii  he  entitled  to  the  use 
of  all  public  institutions:  be  it  of  libraries,  of  schools  for  his 
children,  of  hospitals,  asylmns,  or  assistance  in  his  old  age, 
on  the  same  principle  as  the  insured  is  entitled  to  the  amount 
flamed  in  his  policy,  on  the  happening  of  a  certain  event. 
This  snakes  it  clear  how  our  Commonwealth  is  to  be  the  Gen- 
eral Insurer;  and  our  various  companies  that  insure  against 
so  many  forms  of  risk  point  out  the  right  road  to  pursue.  They, 
indeed,  embody  whatever  of  corporate  resi^onsibility  there  is 
left  in  this  chaotic  age. 

We  should  therefore  say  that  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth   '\ 
will  be  highly  promotive  of  social  welfare  by  securing  to  all 
its  citizens  abundance;  by  lurnishing   them   leism-e;  and   by   ' 
enabling  them   to   follow   tlieir  natural  bent.     Work  will  no 
longer  be  a  tribute  to  physical  necessii  y  but  a  glad  performance    ' 
of  social  office.     It  will  for  the  first  time  in  human  history  es- 
tablish harmoii}-  between  personal   Egoism   and  the  Public 
Welfare,  by,   simply,  distributing  the  forces  of  the  social  or- 
ganism in  accordance  with  its  real  needs. 

We  make  a  distinction  between  the  soil  of  cities  and  towns 
and  agricultural  lands,  'fhe  former  will  have  to  be  taken  un- 
der collective  control  simultaneously  with  other  Capital,  while 
the  nationalization  of  the  latter,  in  a  country  like  ours  espec- 
ially, may  be  postponed  for  years.  That  this  change  will  prove 
highly  beneficial  to  our  city  population  is  not  difficult  to  see. 

The  greater  a  city  is,  the  worse  are  the  ''  homes "' — as  they 


118  EXPEDIEXCY  OF 

are  still  by  courtesy  called — of  the  masses  that  inhabit  it,  main- 
ly because  the  ruliii*^  chiss,  the  moneyed  aristocracy,  becomes 
tlie  more  exclusive.  There  was  a  time  when  this  aristocracy* 
formed  one  class  with  the  masses  :  called  in  England  the*-  Com- 
mons," in  France  the  ••  Third  Estate  "  For  a  long  time  alter 
the  settlement  ol  our  country  we  had  only  this  o?ie  class.  As 
long  as  this  state  of  things  continued,  the  chiefs  of  indnstry 
and  commerce  lived  over  their  shops,  near  their  oliices  among 
tlieir  people.  Now  thoy  have  deserted  their  ])Osts  of  social 
duty.  They  live  in  separate  districts,  in  the  suburbs  and  only 
come  into  town  to  spend  a  few  hours  in  their  places  ot  busi- 
ness on  week-days.  This  modern  fashionable  siiburbanism 
and  exclusiveness  is  a  real  grievance  of  the  working-classes. 
Had  the  rich  men  continued  to  live  among  the  masses,  they 
would  with  their  wealth  and  intluei.ce  have  made  our  large 
towns  pleasant  places  to  live  in.  especially  as  they  are  almost 
the  exclusive  owners  of  the  ground  and  buildings. 

It  is  evident  that  when  the  Comnumity  assumes  the  owner- 
ship, all  kinds  of  improvements  can  and  will  be  carried  on  in 
a  far  grander  and  more  systematic  manner  than  now  when 
many  a  measure,  imperatively  demanded  even  by  the  Public 
Good,  is  met  and  often  checked  by  some  opposing  private  in- 
terest. Then  the  many  uiisightly  vacant  lots  in  the  veiy  heart 
of  cities  will  disappear.  Then,  and  only  then,  we  c.-ui  hope 
for  the  introduction  of  such  sanitary  measures,  both  indwell- 
i.igs  anil  factories,  as  the  present  development  of  Puolic  Hy- 
giene reconnnends  and  as  the  aggregation  of  workers  imper- 
ativi'ly  demands.  Compare  now  the  j)ublic  institutions  in  any 
city:  scliools,  asjdums  or  even  jails  with  the  factories  found 
in  the  same  place  and  note  the  dilfci'ence  in  the  workings  of 
cor])orate  responsibility,  im  the  oiic  hand,  and  private  greed 
ar  1  i.ulilference,  on  the  other.  Every  comnumity  owning  the 
soil  on  which  it  lives,  can  be  made  responsible  for  the  deatli 
of  nearly  every  person  who  may  fall  a  victim  to  the  "^'eilow 
Fever  or  any  other  epidemic.  For  all  the  conditions  of  epi- 
demic diseases,  like  foul  air,  stagnant  pools,  allej'-s  lilled  with 
garbage,  can  be  brought  wholly  within  the  control  of  an  eu- 


THE  COOrEKATlVE   COMMONWEALTH.  119 

crgetic  administration,  as  General  Butler  conclusively  proved 
in  Xew  Orleans. 

But  this  subject  leads  up  to  another  problem.  The  present 
relation  of  city  to  country  is  an  abnormal  one.  Every  civilized 
country,  witli  its  overgrown  cities  may  fairly  be  compared  to 
a  man  whose  belly  is  steadily  increasing  in  bulk,  out  of  all 
proportion  to  the  body,  and  whose  legs  are  constantly  growing 
thinner.  This  evolution  is  as  yet  perfectly  legitimate.  Our 
large  cities  and  towns  are  the  necessary  fruits  of  our  indus- 
trial system,  and  are  destined  to  become  the  needed  and  in- 
evitable centres  for  the  coming  changes;  in  their  hands  will 
chiefly  lie  the  threads  of  destiny.  But  then  their  purpose  will 
have  been  fultilled.  Then  the  evolution  will  necessarily  have 
to  go  back  in  the  contrary  direction  :  population  will  have  to 
take  its  march  back  into  the  country.  It  will  become  a 
life-problem. 

Why  do  the  sons  of  farmers  now  flock  into  our  cities  ?  Because 
their  fathers  and  especially  mothers  lead  a  life  of  drudgery  and 
privation  that  no  mechanic  in  tlie  city  would  wish  to  undergo; 
because  they  want  to  get  rid  of  the  prosy,  stunting,  isolated, 
barbarian  life  on  a  farm.  The  working  masses  stay  in  our 
overcrowded  cities  because  such  a  farm-life  has  no  attractions 
for  them.  They  are  not  going  to  leave  the  cities  before  they 
can  carry  with  them  the  civilization  in  which  they  have  been 
reared  ;  and  well  it  is  that  they  cannot  be  made  to  do  it.  Only 
our  Commonwealth  and  collective  control  of  all  land  can  bring 
the  pleasures  and  comforts  of  city  life,  the  blessings  of  our 
civilization,  into  the  country.  This  consideration,  beside  the 
lina;icial  one  we  already  have  suggested,  may  in  time  make 
our  farmers  see  the  beauties  of  Socialism. 

But  the  nationalization  of  the  land  and  Social-cooperative 
farming  will  not  prove  beneticial  merely  to  the  agricultural 
class  and  our  surplus  city-popuhition.  but  also  preeminently 
to  Society  at  large.  It  may.  indeed,  in  a  short  time,  be  im- 
pcralivo  on  Society  to  adopt  it. 

Our  present  mode  of  farming  impoverishes  the  soil;  '*  bon- 
atr/a  " — farming  does  so  lo  a  still  greater  extent.  Every  bush- 
el of  wheal  sent  to  oui*  large  cities  or  abroad,  robs  the  soil  of 


120  EXPEDIENCY    OF 

a  certain  amount  of  nutriment.  A nd  next  to  nothin<^.  —in  fact, 
on  the  bonanza-farms  nothing  at  all, — is  done  to  reimburse 
the  soil  for  that  loss.  The  object  of  the  bonanza-farmers  is 
simply  to  plunder  the  soil  as  much  as  possible  in  order  to  lill 
their  own  pockets.  When  it  becomes  no  longer  pi-otitable  to 
work  the  lands  with  even  the  most  extensive  machinery,  they 
will  be  left  mere  deserts. 

Manure  is  just  as  requisite  for  the  soil  as  food  is  for  a  hu- 
man being.  Our  large  cities,  constantly  growing,  are  the  es- 
pecial consumers  of  the  substance  of  the  soil,  without  return- 
ing to  it  tl»eir  refuse  :  this  manure  which  is  so  all  important  to 
it.  Evidently  the  result  must  be  that  our  agricultural  produc- 
tion will  be  paralyzed,  if  an  end  be  not  put  to  this  system  of 
plunder. 

Nothing  but  Social  Cooperation  will  put  an  end  to  it.  Only 
that  can  inf^titute  a  wise  system  of  gathering  and  of  distributing 
this  invaluable  refuse  of  men  and  animals.  This  is  evidently 
a  matter  in  which  Society  at  large  is  vitally  interested.  Anxl 
there  are  other  measures,  that  only  yield  in  importance  to  this 
matter  of  manure,  which  only  Social  Cooperation  will  know 
how  to  deal  with  properly;  as  a  comprehensive  sj'?tem  of 
drainage,  without  which  land  cannot  be  cultivated  to  its  high- 
est degree;  and  the  preservation  and  calture  of  our  forests, 
which  even  in  our  days  call  loudly  for  the  interposition  of 
niitional  authority. 

lIowever,volumes  would  be  requisite  to  give  an  adequate 
conception  of  all  the  benelits  to  be  conferred  by  the  Coope- 
rative Commonwealth  in  detail,  for  as  has  been  truly  observed 
by  the  reputable  German  Political  Econ<>  mist,  Prof  Schaetiie  i 
'•  it  requires  years  to  think  one -self  into  it^ 

But  all  this  will  not  satisfy  people  who  pride  themselves  on 
being  practical.  '•'Practical  people  are  people  whose  knowl- 
edge is  limited  to  wliat  is  going  on  under  their  eyes "' — this  is 
Buckle's  defmition,  not  ours.  These  nearsighted  gentlemen  will 
gay:  ''YourConnnonwealth  maybe  everso  much  in  harmony 
with  the  conditions  of  this  age;  it  may  be  able  to  create  ever 
so  great  an  abundance  and  even  to  furnii>h  the  most  efl'cctive 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMMOXWEALin.  121 

demand  for  it ;  it  may  be  able  to  establish  the  most  perfect 
social  adjustment;  yet  it  is  impracticahle\  it  cannot  be  made 
to  work  for  many  reasons." 

.  Xow,  we  are  not  here  concerned  about  how  to  institute  that 
New  Order. — when  the  time  is  ready,  when  we  reach  that  bi'iiik, 
a  bridge  will  grow  before  our  way,  somehow — but  it  may  be 
worth  our  wdiile  to  notice  some  of  these  reasons. 

••'It  is  a  stupendous  scheme !  That  is  enough  to  make  it  im- 
practicable. It  is  an  insane  idea  to  proi)ose  to  make  lifty  or 
a  iiundrod  million  people  w^ork  in  concert." 

Yes,  the  Pliilisf  ines  of  the  Middle  Ages,  likewise,  undoubted- 
ly whuld  have  scorned,  as  insane,  the  idea,  tliat  a  city  like 
London  could  possibly  be  provided  with  the  necessaries  of 
life  under  any  sj^stem  oi  free  competition.  And  now,  when  it 
is  daily  done,  our  modern  Philistines  consider  the  fact  as  an 
evidence  ot  **the  beautiful  harmony  between  private  interests 
and  public  necessities."  Yet  it  is  a  far  greater  wonder,  that 
we  get  along  under  the  present  system  as  well  as  we  tlo.  than 
that  our  Commonwealth  should  work  without  the  least  fric- 
tion. We  have,  indeed,  every  reason  to  expect,  tliatil  will  be 
a  Social  Order,  as  regular  and  unobtrusive  as  if  it  were  a  Law 
of  Xature. 

''  But  how  are  you  going  to  nationalize  the  land?  How  would 
}'ou  go  to  work  to  bring  these  immmerable  private  enterprises 
under  collective  control?  Even  Herbert  Spencer. who, liko  you, 
condemns  private  ownership  in  land — in  that  very  Social  St/i- 
tics  that  you  criticized — sees  no  means  of  overcoming  the  difii- 
culties  in  the  way  of  making  land  collective  property." 
.  It  would  be  easy  enough.  Suppose  our  national  constitu- 
tion were  tomorrow  amended  to  this  effect : 

••'All  titles  in  fee  in  private  persons  to  any  Real  Estate  are 
hereby  abolished;  all  such  titles  shall  henceforth  vest  in  tlie 
United  States,  exclusively." 

What  then?  Not  anything  like  the  overturning  of  existing 
relations  wiiich  followed  the  abolition  of  slavery  would  be 
caused  by  such  an  amendment.  Not  a  single  person  Avouid  n  ?ed 
to  be  ousted  from  the  premises  he  uses,  still  less  from  tlie  dwell- 
ing he  inhabits.    The  tenants  of  private  parties  would  simply 


122  EXPEDIENCY  OF 

be  turned  into  tonants  of  tlie  Nation;  the  payments  of  the 
present  proprietors  to  the  community  would  be  changed  from 
'•Taxes"  into  '-Rents." 

Undoubtedly  in  other  respects  tlie  change  would  be  tremen- 
dous. Tlie  occupants  of  lands  and  bnildings  could  no  longer 
sell  them,  no  longer  mortgage  them,  no  longer  rent  them. 
Land  as  Capital  and  as  source  of  Capital  would  evaporate  into 
tiiin  air  like  mist  before  tije  morning  sun,  but  would  remain 
as  Social  Wealth.  It  would  lose  its  specuhitive,  unreal  value, 
but  would  retain  its  intrinsic,  real  value.  Then  an  "•  enterpris- 
ing" individual  could  no  longer  one  day  acquire  a  piece  of  land 
for  twenty  five  cents  an  acre,  and,  without  spending  a  day's 
work  or  one  dollar  for  improvements  on  it,  ten  years  thence 
dispose  of  it  for  ten  or  a  liundred  dollars  an  acre;  this  way  of 
fleecing  the  community  would  be  stopped.  In  short,  Land 
held  for  speculative  purposes  would  be  dropped  like  a  hot  po- 
tato, to  be  sure,  but  occupants  in  good  faith  could  use  it  pre- 
cisely as  they  do  now.  The  difiiculties  of  such  a  measure 
would  be  reduced  to  absolutely  nothing,  if  the  amendment 
proposed,  instead  of  taking  effect  at  once,  were  made  opera- 
tive, say.  twenty  five  years  from  the  date  of  its  adoption ;  for 
then  values  and  relations  would  have  ample  time  to  settle  them- 
selves. 

This  is  Henry  George's  "  I?emedy."  Now,  from  the  very 
moment  when  we  read  the  title-page  of  George's  book  we  did 
not  think  well  of  his  being  ready  with  a  remedij  at  all.  This 
fact  shows  that  he  considers  Society  sick  and  thinks  it  must 
have  some  medicine.  Afterwards  he  seems  to  recoil  from  the 
drastic  opei'ation  of  his  medicine,  the  confiscation  of  land — 
it  might  shock  the  i)reconceived  notions  of  people — and  pro- 
poses, instead  of  that  heroic  treatment,  the  confiscation  of  rent. 

We  admit  that  either  of  these  two  remedies  would  have  two 
results,  highly  bcnelicial  in  themselves :  the  revenues  of  the 
community  from  land  would  be  largely  increased,  and  the  vast 
gums,  now  squaiulcrcd  as  ])ureliase-m()ney  and  rents  for  pure- 
ly liftitious  values,  would  be  saved. 

I3ut  after  having  shown  our  men-in-spectacles  that  it  would 
be  easy  enongli  to  iiationalize  the  land,   we   must  emphasize 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMMONWEALTH.  123 

that  to  do  so  would  be,  especially  in  our  country  and  in  Ger- 
many and  France,  commencing  from  the  wrong  end.  Society  is 
ijot  sick ;  but  Society  may  be  said  to  be  sufiering  the  pangs  of 
child-birth.  Now,  to  assist  her  deliverance  by  toucl;ing-  agri- 
cultural lands  with  the  Socialist  wand  would  be  as  inexpedi- 
ent as  to  help  a  woman  in  travail  by  forcing  the  feet  of  the 
infant  out  first,  and  inexpedient  everywhere— qyqw  in  Great  Brit- 
tain  where  only  a  comparatively  few  owners  would  have  to  be 
expropriated — for  the  simple  reason  that  the  evolution  in  agri- 
culture is  everywhere  far  behind  the  evolution  in  all  other 
industries.  This  objection,  of  course,  would  not  apply  lo  land 
used  for  manufacturing  and  mining  purposes  or  to  that  of 
towns  and  cities,  as  we  already  have  lemarked.  But  the  na- 
tionalization of  such  land  should  not  be  considered  as  a  meas- 
ure by  itself,  but  as  an  adjunct  to  tlie  taking  our  Manufac- 
tures, Distribution  of  products  and  Transportation  under  col- 
lective control. 

What  practical  difficulties  would  there  be  in  the  way  of  do- 
ing that? 

Why !  If  our  "  statesmen  "  were  less  blind  to  the  Logic  of 
Events,  which  is  pushing  us  with  railroad-speed  toward  a  to- 
tal and  abrupt  revolution,  they  might  from  to-morrow  bring  it 
about  gradually  and  peaceably  l»y  a  series  of  measures,  each 
consistentl}^  developing  itself  out  of  the  previous  ones.  They 
might  begin  from  the  two  poles  of  Society  at  once. 

See  how  !  It  is  now  proposed  to  take  the  Telegraph-system 
of  our  country  under  government  control  and  incorporate  it 
in  our  Postofflce-department.  The  latter  is  already  essential- 
ly a  Socialist  institution,  though  to  make  it  such  fully,  will 
require  some  important  changes  that  we  shall  refer  to  in  the 
loUowing  chapter.  Suppose  this  measure  realized  as  it  is  sure 
to  be  sometime.  Then  do  likewise  with  our  Iiailroads.  our 
Express-bu:^iness  and  thus  onward :  absorb  one  great  enter- 
prise after  another,  as  quickly  as  practicable. 

And  so  from  the  other  pole.  We  now  speak  of  those  inter- 
ests which  so  vitally  affect  the  inhabitants  of  dilTei-ent  com- 
munities, but  which  are  confined  to  them.  Why  could  not 
our  cities  commence  by  f  uriiishing  to   their   citizens  fuel  in 


124  EXPEDIENCY  OF 

winter  and  ice  in  summer?  Are  not  these  things  just  as  essen- 
tial to  the  Public  Health  as  water?  After  that  let  them  furnisU 
all  the  milk  needed.  Then  let  them  take  under  their  control 
and  operate  their  gas-works  and  horse-railwaj\s;  ihcii-  baker- 
ies and  drugstores.  Yes,  and  let  them  take  charge  of  the  liquor- 
traffic,  so  that  the  number  of  saloons  may  be  restricted  to  the 
wants  of  their  respective  populations  and  be  conducted  as  tiie 
beer-selling  cooperative  stores  of  England— not  the  least l^en- 
eficial  of  her  many  cooperative  establishments — are  conducted. 

Now  please  observe,  we  do  not  say, — or  even  think — that  the 
social  question  will  be  solved  in  that  manner,  but  that  it  seems 
to  us  the  most  practical  way  in  which  to  solve  it  for  ''practi- 
cal" people.  And  mark  further!  that  to  carry  out  one  or  a 
few  of  these  measures  (as  the  nationalization  of  Land,  or  col- 
lective control  of  the  Telegraph  system,  or  communal 
control  of  the  coal-business)  and  theti  stop  there,  will  not 
solve  the  question  at  all.  These  measures,  standing  alone,  will 
be  almost  worthless  to  the  working-classes.  They  will  ben- 
etit  the  small  number  cmplo.yed  in  tliese  enterprises;  they 
may  beneht  all  by  the  resulting  public  improvements,  but  they 
will  not  help  the  great  body  of  the  workers  in  any  material 
respect,  for  to  the  same  extent,  tiiat  the  price  of  their  neces- 
saries of  life  and  rents  may  fall,  their  wages  are  sure  to  come 
down.  That  is  the  linal  answer  to  George's  proposition.  Even 
if  he  could  possibly  persuade  the  Social  organism  by  his  in- 
siiuiating  periods  to  swallow  his  medicine,  she  woidd  not  be 
a  bit  less  restless  than  before.  That  child,  the  New  Social  Or- 
der, is  going  to  be  born. 

•^  Dut  whence  will  your  Commonwealth  take  the  money  to 
indemnify  the  present  owners?" 

Oh  !  that  matter  of  compensation  will  not  worry  us  so  very 
mu<;h.  Socialists,  indeed,  claim,  that  it  Is  Society,  to  whom 
oiu"  Plutocrats  owe  all  their  wealth,  and  that,  therefore.  So- 
ciety has  the  right  at  any  moment  to  take  it  back  liesides— 
a  fact  to  whidi  we  already  have  once  called  attention — Society 
has  7iever  yet  compensated  the  laboring  class:'S  when  their  in- 
terests have  been  sacriliced  to  the  gain  of  their  fellow-citizens 
and  posterity,  as  they  have  repeatedly  been  during  this  ceis- 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMaiOXWEALTH.  125 

tury  by  the  iiitrodactioii  ot  new  machinery  and  the  adoption 
of  new  inventions.  But  they  are,  also,  ready  to  admit,  that, 
if  our  Plutocrats  are  willing  peaceably  to  give  up  their  posses- 
sions to  the  Commonwealth,  they  ought  to  be  fairly  compen- 
sated, on  the  sole  ground  that  these  possessions  were  acquired 
by  the  sanction  of  Society.     But  what  of  that? 

All  tlie  wealth  of  the  country  in  the  j^ear  1880  is  estimated 
at  ^40, 000,000, 000.  Much  of  that  is  composed  of  speculative,  nn- 
real,  values.  All  that  Socialists  wish  to  expropriate,  is  only 
the  most  important  instruments  of  production,  a  fractional 
part  of  that  wealth.  If,  now,  this  nation  could  spend  six 
thousand  million  of  dollars  to  deliver  a  foreign  race  out  of 
slaver3^  could  it  not  spend,  say,  twenty  thousand  millions  of 
dollars  to  make  all  its  citizens  free"?  Compare  such  a  debt  with 
the  incumbrances  of  so  many  modern  wars,  waged  in  the  in- 
terests of  a  few  persons  or  of  a  small  class,  and  remember, 
that  in  this  case  the  consideration  will  be  bequeathed  with  the 
debt ;  for  the  land  and  machinery  will  remain  intact,  or  rather 
will  multiply  itself  in  course  of  a  few  generations.  On  this 
point  we  shall  have  more  to  sa}'  in  the  next  chapter. 

But  should  our  Plutocracy  choose  to  make  the  llevolution 
a  violent  one,  then — we  suppose  they  will  be  dispossessed  with- 
out compensation.  Read  llistor3^  and  you  will  tind,  that  the 
dominant  class  has  furnished  us  with  plenty  ot  precedents. 

The  various  privileges  of  the  nobles  and  clergy  were  "'prop- 
erty;" they  are  so  no  longer.  Germany,  Italy,  Spain,  and 
France  have  repeatedly  confiscated  the  estates  of  nobility  and 
clergy.  England  has  done  the  same  thing  with  the  soil  of 
Ireland.  It  is  worth  while  for  capitalists  to  bear  in  mind  Carl- 
yle's  words:  '■'  Who  can  be  hood-winked  into  believing  that 
loyalty  to  the  money-bag  is  nobler  than  loyalty  to  nobles  and 
clergy?"  But  we  need  not  go  away  from  home :  our  country 
confiscated  the  slaves  of  the  South ;  that  is  a  splendid  precedent 
for  us. 

'••  But  it  is  certainly  granted,  that  Government  never  can  do 
Dusmcss  as  well  as  private  individuals,  simply  because  the 
latter  are  personally  interested  in  their  affairs." 

This  is  decidedly  7ioi  granted.    It  is  only  a  commonplace, 


126  EXPEDIENCY  OF 

manufacture  1  to  order  by  interested  parties;  asti^^ma,  ingen- 
iously fastened  on  State-activity  by  individu.-ils  who  profit  by 
the  absence  of  it.  The  fact,  that  our  government  cari'ies  a 
letter  for  us  promptly  and  s:ifely  across  the  continent  for  two 
cents ;  the  fact  that  tiio  English  telegraph  service  sends  a  des- 
l)atch  to  any  paitof  the  United  Kingdom  for  twent}' live  cents; 
the  fact,  thnt  the  Uelgian  railwa v  management  only  charges 
thirty-six  cents  for  every  thirty  miles,  these  prove,  that  the 
State,  even  as  noio  coustiiuted.  can  and  does  manage  national 
interests  better  than  any  private  i)arties  could  do  it.  Or,  to 
clinch  our  argument:  suppose  a  proposition  was  submitted  to 
the  people  to  relegate  our  mail-service  back  to  private  corpor- 
ations, can  any  sane  man  doubt,  that  it  would  be  overwhelm- 
ingly defeated,  even  if  all  Star-route  frauds  were  brought  to 
light? 

There  is  one  particular  State-activity  that  has  proved  the 
eminent  litness  of  the  State  to  direct  the  work  of  Societ}'^ 
and  that  is  its  scientitic  labors.  Look  at  the  exceptional  oi- 
ticiency  of  our  Coast-Survey,  Light-IIouse-Service,  the  labors 
of  the  Naval  Observatory,  Signal  Service,  Patent  Office,  Oe- 
o  logical  Survej's. 

And,  in  point  of  fact,  is  the  management  of  any  of  our  big 
corporations  better  entitled  to  be  called  management  by  the 
'•persons  interested,"'  than  the  administration  of  a  public  of- 
fice? The  State  can  evitlently  be  far  more  efficient  than  the 
most  efficient  i)rivate  company  io-da3%  simply  because  it 
will  have  in  its  service  the  best  capacities  that  the  country 
contains,  and  can  organize  the  greatest  possible  Division  of 
Labor. 

•'Rut  what  an  unbearable  omnipotent  centralization!  Un- 
bearable to  a  degree  unheard  of  before  in  history.  Your  Com- 
monwealth will  have  the  supreme  power  without  nppeal,  to 
domineer  over  all  the  social  and  industrial  interests  of  the 
country  at  its  pleasure,  even  to  the  extent  of  saying  how  many 
hours  a  man  shall  work  or  how  much  money  he  may  earn, 
That  is  a  tyranny,  a  slavery,  that  certaiidy  will  never  be  sub- 
mitted to  b}'-  the  strong  individuality  of  our  people.  And  what 
an  enormous  crowd  of  officials?    If  corruption  is  now  every' 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMMONWEALTH.  127 

where  cropping  out  in  our  Civil  Service  how  will  it  be  wlien 
that  service  is  increased  a  tliousandfold?'' 

One  thing  at  a  time,  friend,  thou.^-h  it  is  very  well  to  have 
these  objections  noticed.  Civil  Service  increased,  j'oii  say. 
Then  you  are  truly  nearsighted.  Wliat  else  arc  now  our  mer- 
chants, our  foremen,  oui  superintendents,  our  bank-presidents, 
cashiers — yes,,  and  all  our  workers  but  persons  wlio  serve  ws, 
or  pretend  to  serve  us;  what  else  but  functionaries  of  Society, 
though  the}--  are  so  i.i  a  private  capacity?  Is  there  not  an  im- 
mense number  of  men  now,  occupying  private  positions  in- 
tent only  on  then*  interests  or  the  interests  of  their  emplo3'er3 
and  yet  to  all  intents  and  purposes  ojjicials  of  Society?  The  only 
change,  then  which  our  Commonwealth  will  bring  about  in 
that  respect,  is  to  change  these  private  functionaries  into  puhlic 
ojjlcials^  but  far  from  increasing  the'-'Cisil  Service,"  this 
change  will,  actually,  vastly  decrease  the  number  of  those 
who  now  spend  their  time  as  mere  overseers,  managers  or 
middlemen. 

And  why  should  a  change  from  private  into  public  function- 
aries tend  to  make  these  ofHcials  corrupts  Public  Service  al- 
ways lends  dignity  to  the  servant,  and  if  our  Civil  Service  is 
corrupt,  it  is  evidently  due  to  the  uncertain  teiun-e  and  the 
fact  that  political  adventurers  have  tlie  inside  track.  If  /.  i. 
the  Gas  Trust  of  Philadelphia  is  poorly  managed,  it  is  only 
because  it  is  used  for  political  pnrposes.  But  politicians 
will  not  have  much  to  say  under  the  New  Order,  as  we  shall 
see  later  on. 

And  centralization  I  Well,  wiiat  of  it?  There  are  feople 
wiio  pronounce  that  word  with  unaffected  horror,  as  if  it  vSig- 
nitied  something  exceedingly  execrable.  And  yet  every  healthy 
man  is  an  instance  of  the  most  perfect  centralization  in  his 
own  person.  Indeed,  the  moment  that  perfect  centralization 
ceases,  sullcring  is  the  result.  And  as  with  the  human  ori:an- 
ism,  so  with  the  social  organism.  Division  of  Labor  demands 
centralization  or  anarchy  is  the  result. 

We,  however,  can  very  well  apj)n'ciate  the  cause  of  that 
outcry.  The  centralization  of  industries  that  we  witness  around 
us  is  not  altogether  good;  our  wiono^o^ies  are  not  altogether 


128  EXPEDIENCY    OF 

good  things— that  is  exactly  what  we  took  pains  to  show  in 
our  second  chapter — for  the  siiuj)le  reason  that  they  are  cen- 
tered in  private,  irresponsible  individuals,  bent  only  on  private 
gain.  And  so  whenever  any  one  advocates  tlie  centralization 
of  industrial  or  political  activities  in  the  State,  everybody 
thinks  of  the  ijresent  State,  vvhich,  as  we  have  seen,  is  as  yet 
only  tlie  representative  of  certain  classes ;  everybody  thus  has 
ill  mind  a  private  party,  a  power  outside  of  tlie  people. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  people  shudder  at  the  thought  of  giv- 
ing unlimited,  supreme  control  over  all  our  social,  political 
and  industrial  affairs  to  a  lot  of  politicians  of  the  sort  that  now 
sit  in  Washington  and  our  State-capitals  and  rule  us.  They 
think  of  the  princes  of  the  ^liddle  Ages  who  arbitrarily  inter- 
fered with  and  domineered  over  the  private  affairs  of  their  sub- 
jects and  imagine  that  Socialists  propose  to  introduce  similar 
tyranny  on  a  far  greater  scale.  This  must  also  have  been  in 
George's  mind,  when  he  wrote:  " it  is  evident  that  whatever 
savors  of  regulation  and  restriction  is  in  itself  bad,"  for  he 
certainly  cannot  mean  that  order  and  method  are  bad. 

It  must  therefore  be  boriie  in  mind,  that  we  contemplate  the 
fully  developed  State;  the  State  that  has  incorporated  in  itself 
not  only  all  social  activities,  but  also  ih(Mohole  population ;  the 
State  where  every  citizen  is  a  part  of  the  Administration,  not 
in  a  Pickwickian  sense  as  now,  but  a  real,  integral  part,  per- 
forming his  share  of  it  in  the  place  where  he  is  put ;  a  State 
where,  according  to  our  definition,  every  one  is  a  public  func- 
tionary, where  therefore  all  State-help  is  really  and  truly  Self- 
help. 

Such  a  State,  of  course,  will  require  quite  other  machinery 
than  any  present  State  has  got,  and  perhaps  it  is  difficult  to 
^rasp  the  idea  of  such  a  State,  without  considering  the  kind 
of  machinery  that  will  be  necessary  to  work  it ;  but  that  we 
must  defer  till  the  eighth  chapter. 

In  order,  however,  to  dispel  the  notion  that  centralization  of 
all  social  activities  in  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  implies 
any  domineering  whatever  or  anything  whatever  analogous 
to  the  arbitrary  interference  of  medieval  princes,  we  shall  call 
attention  to  the  parallel  between  that  normal  State  and  a  hu- 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COMMONWEALTH.  129 

man  organism.  The  latter  possesses  a  central  regulative  sys- 
tem, which,  is  not  the  man,  but  quite  distinct  from  the  man: 
which  is  but  an  organ,  on  a  footing  with  the  other  organs,  hi 
like  niauncr  tlie  normal  State  will  po.ssess  its  central  regulative 
system  and  will  exactly  thereby  distinguish  itself  from  the 
present  State,  which  has  no  such  system  or  a  but  very,  very 
imperfect  one.  But  this  regidative  system  will  not  be  the  State, 
but  simply  an  organ,  on  a  footing  with  the  other  organs  :  the 
associated  workers  of  each  branch  of  industry  or  social  activit}''. 
It  will,  we  suppose,  ha^e  three  essential  functions:  that  of  be- 
ing Chief  Superintendent^  Chief  Statistician  and  Arbitrator.  Each 
of  the  other  organs  may  manage  their  own  affairs,  subject  simp- 
ly to  the  supervisory  control  of  what  we,  temporarily,  call  the 
central  regulative  organ.    That  is  the  Socialist  idea. 

Suppose/,  i.  the  cotton-workers  to  control  the  whole  manu- 
facture of  cotton.  They  settle  among  themselves  the  rate  of 
remuneration  which  shall  be  paid  to  unskilled  labor  and  to  the 
various  grades  of  skilled  labor;  they,  further,  calculate  for 
themselves  how  much  labor  will  be  embodied  in  their  products 
and  from  these  data  the  remuneration  to  be  paid  to  each  work- 
er is  a  simple  matter  of  figures. 

lUit  thii  prices  of  the  products  is  a  matter  that  vitally  con- 
cerns the  whole  people;  wherefore,  most  naturally,  the  cen- 
tral regulative  organ  will  claim  the  right  to  have  the  annual 
price-list  laid  before  it  for  its  approval. 

'I'he  rate  of  remuneration  and  the  hours  of  labor  of  these 
cotton-workers,  on  the  other  hand,  only  concern  these  work- 
ers themselves.  There  need  be  no  fear,  that  they  will  not  be 
able  to  settle  these  matters  among  themselves,  for  if  they  do 
not  come  to  an  agreement  they  will  have  to  starve.  It  will 
not  pay  to  "strike"  in  the  Coming  Commonwealth  and  there 
will  be  no  reason  for  striking.  Moreover,  if  any  of  the  work- 
ers should  feel  himself  aggiieved  by  the  action  of  his  fellows* 
there  will  be  the  recourse  to  the  Courts  of  the  country  left  him ; 
that  is,  recourse  to  the  central  regulative  organ  as  Arbitrator. 

With  such  "an  arrangement  we  fail  to  see  where  the  ''unbear- 
able" centralization  will  come  in.  Will  it  not  rather  be  au 
ideal  sort  of  self-government? 


130  EXPEDIENCY  OF 

Now  we  can  see  why  Socialists  put  such  a  value  on  Trades^ 
Unions  as  they  do.  It  is  not  that  these  Unions  are  always 
models  of  associations — thongli  even  the  most  faulty  unions  are 
better  in  every  wny  than  no  union;; ; — it  is  not  that  they  always 
materially  benefit  their  members,  but  that  tiicse  Unions  are 
destined  to  form  the  skeleions  of  tliese  industrial  departments 
of  the  future  of  wliich  we,  in  another  chapter,  shall- have  more 
to  say.  Especially  will  these  Unions  prove  invaluable  dnrini^ 
the  transition  period.  In  places  where  they  are  well  organized 
and  embrace  all  the  best  workers  of  the  trade,  they  may,  on 
the  establishment  of  the  Cooperative  Commonwealtli,  take 
possession  of  the  industrial  plant  of  their  trade  and  go  i-ight 
to  work  as  if  they  nev'cr  had  known  any  other  airangement. 
And  that  the  nrtizans  of  England  are  already  thus  strongly 
organized  is  just  a  reason  why  we  should  think,  that  England 
may  be  nearer  the  realization  of  Socialism  than  is  generally 
supposed.     Organization  is  only  second  to  sound  ideas. 

''But,  then,  don't  you  know  the  Malthusian  law?  Don't 
you  know,  that  if  your  Commonwealth  succeed  as  you  expect ; 
if  four  hours  of  daily  labor  will  provide  the  laborer  and  his 
family  with  all  comforts,  that  then  this  country  will  very  soon 
not  have  standing  room  for  its  population?  Do  you  not 
know,  that  your  Commonwealth  caiuiot  last  a  generation,  un- 
less it  commands  its  people  when  to  marry  and  how  many 
children  they  may  have?" 

Yes,  Socialists  know  Malthus  very  well,  that  English  cler- 
gyman, himself  the  father  of  not  less  than  eleven  children, 
who  told  the  poor,  that  they  have  themselves  to  thank  for 
their  miseries,  because,  forsooth,  thej^  marry  too  early,  and 
beget  too  many  children !  But  they  also  know  that  this  doc- 
trine of  his  is  a  vicious  monstrosity,  hatched  in  the  saloons  of 
tne  wealthy  and  tlattering  to  the  conscience  of  the  ruling  class- 
es and  that  llierofore  it  has  been  so  widely  accepted.  Just  as 
well  say,  that  if  you  crowd  millions  of  people  into  a  city  and 
besiege  it  for  months,  that  it,  also,  is  Nature's  fault,  when 
they  die  of  starvation  and  plagues. 

No,  neither  England  nor  Ireland  liad  at  the  time  of  Mal- 
thus or  has  had  at  any  time  since  too  large  a  population.     It 


THE  COOPERATIVE  COM^IOXWE  \LTH.  131 

niny  be  safely  said,  on  the  contrary,  that  Gi-eat  Britain  even 
now  lias  too  small  a  i)opulation  for  a  really  high  civilization. 
If  the  smart  fellows  of  the  Stono  Age  had  been  Malthnsiiins 
and  had  been  able  to  i)revent  increase  of  population  beyond 
the  supply  of  the  then  existing  cm^es^  we  never  should  have 
hud  brown-stone-fronts  or  architects. 

Again,  it  is  not  true  that  the  better  fed  and  better  off  peo- 
ple are,  the  more  they  will  propagate.  The  reverse  is  the  fact. 
Jlopeless  poverty  makes  men  reckless  and  only  intent  on  ani- 
mal gratifications.  Facts  prove  that  the  increase  of  any  class 
is  in  inverse  ratio  to  its  social  position  and  wealth. 

In  England  it  is  a  matter  of  common  observation  that  the 
families  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  constantly  tend  to  die  out. 
Here  in  our  country  it  is  even  so.  In  the  beginning  of  this 
century  families  with  from  ten  to  fifteen  children  each  were 
not  rare  in  New  England ;  now^  one  with  more  than  six  is  found 
only  among  the  poor.  In  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth 
there  will  rather  be  reason  to  fear  that  the  population  will 
tend  to  decreas3  than  that  it  will  ever  be  too  redundant. 

The  best  service  that  Henry  George  has  rendered  to  Social- 
ism with  his  ''Progress  and  Poverty"  is,  that  he  has  laid  bare 
the  utter  absurdity  of  the  Malthusian  philosophy.  All  we 
now  have  to  do,  when  any  body  brings  it  forward  as  an  ob- 
jection, is  to  tell  him  to  go  and  study  the  second  Book  of  his 
work. 

If  the  misery  of  the  world  were  caused  by  overpopulation, 
as  Malthus  would  have  it,  then,  indeed  Socialism,  or  any  oth- 
er progressive  movement,  would  be  a  Utopia.  Fortunately  the 
reverse  is  true :  it  is 

Misery  that  causes  Overpopulation, 


CHAPTER  VI. 


SOCIAL    ECONOMY. 


*'  The  principal  narrowness  of  Political  Economists  is  that 
of  regarding  their  ])resent  experience  of  niaiikiiul  as  of  univer- 
sal validity,  mistaking  temporary  phases  of  human  character 
for  human  nature  itself.'' — Auguste  Comte. 

'•'Tlie  best  state  of  human  nature  is  that  in  wliicli,  while  no 
one  is  poor,  no  one  desires  to  be  riclier,  nor  has  any  reason  co 
fear  being  tlu-ust  back  by  tlie  efforts  of  others  to  push  them- 
selves forward/' — John  Mill. 

'•The  citizens  of  a  large  nation,  industrially  organized,  have 
reached  tlieir  i)os.sible  ideal  of  happiiuiss.  wluMithe  [)roduc-iiig, 
(lisLributing  and  other  activities  are  such,  that  each  cili/eu 
finds  in  them  a  place  Jbr  all  his  energies  and  aptitudes,  while 
lie  obtains  tiie  means  of  satisfying  all  his  desires." — Herbert 
Spencer. 

Political  Economy  pretends  to  be  a  science.  Proudlion,  on 
the  other  hand,  remarlvS  that  the  merit  of  Maltlius — not  dreamt 
of  by  his  admirers — is  tiiat  he  has  reduced  Political  Economy 
to  an  absurdity.  When  we  think  of  the  dogma  of  the  '*  wages- 
fund,"  which,  divided  by  the  munber  of  laborers,  is  said  to 
determine  the  current  rate  of  wages,  Proudhon's  observation 
must  strike  us  as  pat.  A  philosophy  which  turns  the  labor- 
question  into  ii  <xuestion  in  long  divisiou  is  certainly  a  counter- 
feit-science.   But  it'  leyitimate  Political  Economy  be  a  science, 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY.  133 

It  is  at  all  events  a  very  modern  science.  "VYe  do  not  find  a  trace 
or  promise  of  it  in  ilie  former  liistorical  periods  as  Ave  do  of 
the  otlier  sciences.  Like  Athene  it  came  into  the  world  sud- 
denly and  full-fledged  about  103  years  ago.  Curionsly  enough 
nobody  seems  ever  to  have  aslced  for  the  reason  for  tliis  phe- 
nomenon, and  yet  there  must  be  a  reason  for  it.  We  think 
we  have  found  it  in  the  lact  tliat  Political  Economy  concerns 
itself  with  tiie  production  and  distribution  of  ^veaith  under  the 
wacie-system^  exclusiveli' ;  for  this  explanation  of  course,  includes 
that  it  would  have  no  raisona  etre — no  reason  for  being — under 
a  system  of  slavery  or  serfage.  But  in  order  to  maintain  tlie 
nimbus  of  a  "science"  it  has  to  inculc-ate  that  this  ^yage- 
System  is  a  permanent  system,  the  normal  condition  of  effect- 
1V3  production,  and  thus  it  has  come  to  pass  that  a  philosophy 
which  was  legitimate  if  it  limited  itself  to  its  proper  sphere: 
that  of  explaining  the  working  of  the  present  system,  has  been 
prostituted  by  being  made  to  justify  the  present  social  ar- 
rangements, as  having  uaiv^rsal  validity. 

But  if.  as  we  maintahi,  this  wage-system  is  nothing  but  a 
temporary  phase  of  the  evolution  of  Society,  then  it  follows 
that  Political  Economy  is  destined  to  be  superceded  by  a  new 
philosophy',  a  true  science,  as  soon  as  the  new  conditions  arise. 
Under  Social-Coo; >eratiou  we  shall  have  a  perfectly  different 
Philosophy  of  the  Production  and  Distribution  of  wealth, 
which  we,  not  inaptly,  may  call  Social  Economy. 

But  do  not  for  a  moment  suppose  that  we  here  intend  to 
elaborate  that  new  science,  we  are  all  of  us  too  much  the  chil- 
dren of  our  own  age  to  make  such  an  attempt.  Yet  w^e  also 
know  that  both  Americans  and  Englishmen  cannot  be  expected 
to  cooperate  consciously  with  the  natural  development  of  the 
New  Social  Order  before  they  have  learned  to  know  its  lead- 
injr  features  and  have  found  them  on  the  whole  desirable.  Such 
an  attitude  is  decidedly  commendable,  but  may  easily  degener- 
ate into  a  disposition  to  propound  conundrums,  and  such  we 
are  not  disposed  to  try  to  solve.  , 

Do  not  forget,  that  Socialists  are  not  willing  to  be  taken  for 
architects.  He  is  a  bad  architect  who  cannot  plan  the  building 
lie  is  required  to  erect,  to  the  nicest  details ;  who  is  unable  to 


134  SOCIAL  ECONOMY. 

tell  the  size  of  this  drawing-room,  or  the  exact   location  of 
that  closet.        Da  not  demand  such  details  from  us. 

Rather  may  we  liken  ourselves  to  nutnr;ilists :  a  botanist 
ought  t<>  be  able  to  tell  what  plant  will  develop  out  of  a  cer- 
talu  seed,  but  he  ca:inot  tell  how  ma:iy  leaves  it  will  have. 

And  in  like  manner  we  ought  to  be  able  to  indicate  the 
most  striking  economic  consequences  which  with  logical  ne- 
cessity will  flow  from  collective  control  of  the  instruments  of 
labor. 

AVe  can  say,  that  Interest,  Pi'ofit  and  Rent,  being  nothing 
but  the  spoils  which  private  monopoly  of  the  instruments  of 
production  at  present  enables  individuals  to  exact,  will  be- 
come things  of  the  past,  as  soon  as  the  Co.nino.iweaUh  takes 
posscssian  of  the  whole  industrial  and  agricultural  plant. 

Interest  will,  for  the  lirst  time  in  hu  iian  history,  be  given  a 
fatal  blow.  All  laws  against  Usury  have  prov(!n  worse  tlian 
useless.  When  under  the  Roman  Kepnblie  Usury  wis  punished 
with  death,  it  flourished  the  most — at  the  rate  of  a  hundred 
percent.  We  have  already  seen,  how  in  this  capitali.-^t  era  the 
taking  of  interest  has  become  a  norm.il  and  legitimate  fi;'ature 
of  our  system,  even  one  of  ''the  inalienable  Rights  of  Man," 
in  Bentham's  words.  All  Usury-laws  limiting  the  rate  of  in- 
terest are  set  at  defiance,  simply  because  they  clash  with  the 
prevailing  mode  of  doing  business. 

The  Coming  Commonwealth  will  be  the  ejffective  destroyer 
of  both  Interest  and  Usuiy.  For  when  all  enterprises  have 
been  taken  in  hand  by  Society,  Wealth  will  no  longer  be  used 
— and  consequently  will  no  longer  be  borrowed — as  Capital; 
in  the  words  of  our  previous  delinition :  it  can  no  longer  be 
'•employed  productively,  with  a  view  to  jn-ojlt/^  Thus  wilh 
the  reason  for  it,  with  its  raisond^etre^  Interest  itself  will  ce;ise 
to  be  legitimate.  Interest  and  Usury  will  once  more  be  con- 
vertible terms;  that  is,  it  will  become,  as  of  old,  infamous  to 
charge  interest  for  sums  of  money  loaned  to  persons  in  em- 
barrassed circumstances.  And  who  will  need  to  be  in  such  cir- 
cumstances? 

As  a  matter  of  course,  that  which  now  is  called  Projit  will 
disappear.     It  will  be  added  to  the  reward  of  Labor. 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY.  135 

Bent  as  Rent,  as  a  tribute  levied  by  individual  monopolists  of 
land,  will  be  no  more.  All  land  u?ed  for  agricultural  or  in- 
dustrial purposes,  will  have  become  a  part  of  the  collective 
plant.  Lund  used  by  citizens  for  homes  or  other  private  pur- 
poses will  yield  rent  or  taxes — whatever  you  choose  to  cnll 
it — to  the  Commonwealth;  which  rent  will  probably  be  regu- 
lated b.v  L)eniand  and  Supply,  for  there  is  no  reason,  wdiy  tho 
more  desirable  sites  should  not  then  as  now  be  the  more  val- 
uable. 

The  Commonwealth  will  derive  whatever  revenues  it  needs 
for  collective  purposes  from  two  sources :  Rent  and.  probably 
a  percentage  on  every  article  sold,  added  to  the  cost  of  pro- 
duction, which  then  will  mean,  what  "' Cost  of  production  " 
should  even  now  always,  but  does  not  alwaj's,  mean;  the 
Value  of  the  article,  the  sum  total  of  Labor  embodied  in  it. 
Everybody  will  thus  bear  his  share  of  the  public  charge-^  i:i 
proportion  to  his  consumption.  And  his  consumption  wiil 
in  all  likelihood  be  pretty  nearly  equal  to  his  income.  He 
will  not  be  able  very  well  to  go  bcyo:ul  his  i:icome,  as  is  so 
frequently  the  case  now — by-the-vvay.  this  sj'stem  of  *•  living 
upon  credit"  is  responsible  for  a  very  large  proportion  of  the 
miseries  by  wbic!i  modern  society  is  afflicted; — and  he  will  be. 
at  least,  under  very  great  temptation  to  spend  all  he  earns. 
It  will  be  public  policy  to  encourage  him  in  doing  so.  It  is 
not  tor  the  individual  citizen  to  save,  but  for  Society.  The 
best  interests  of  Society  require  that  a  taste  for  comforts  and 
enjoyments  should  be  widel}'  diffused  and,  if  possible,  inter- 
woven with  national  habits  and  prejudices,  as  Mc  Culloch  re- 
marks. 

From  this  it  will  appear,  that  the  Cooperative  Common- 
wealth will  have  an  immense  advantage  over  all  modern  States 
in  the  matter  of  taxation.  Not  alone,  that  assessors  and  tax- 
gatherers  will  be  dispensed  with;  that  there  will  be  no  possi- 
bility of  evading  one's  contribution  to  the  collective  expenses; 
that  they  will  be  distributed  in  the  most  equitable  manner,  and 
caimot  be  burdensome  to  anj'body;  but  the  Commonwealth 
will  at  all  times  have  the  whole  wealth  of  the  Nation  at  its 
command.     Suppose  the  rate  of  percentage  for  the  ensuing 


136  SOCIAL   EC0N05IT. 

fiscal  year,  as  estimated,  be  found  to  be  too  low,  or  any  sudden 
emergency  to  arise !  There  uie  the  warehouses !  No  need 
any  more  of  issuing  bonds,  to  be  bought  for  li;ilf  their  face- 
value  by  greedy  capitalists. 

Next,  we  can  affirm,  that  money — ^by  which  we  understand 
Gold-und  Silver-coin  and  their  representatives — will  beconie 
entirely  useless  in  the  Coniii)g  Commonwealth.  We  <lo  not 
s:iy  that  Society  may  not  go  on  for  an  indefinite  period  using 
it  for  various  reasons  of  convejiience,  but  tliat  not  a  tj'ace  of 
the  necessity  which  makes  money  play  such  important  role  in 
our  present  sj^stem  will  reinaiu. 

Money  is  now  the  quintessence  of  Capital,  or  "  Capital  par 
excellence .^"^^  as  Lassallc  called  it.  The  manufacturer  or  mer- 
chant cannot  make  a  move  without  Money.  They  maj'  have 
their  warehouses  tilled  with  merchandise,  but  tliey  cannot  pay 
their  drafts  with  them.  Yet  many,  even  men  of  the  acutest 
intellect,  do  not  sufficiently  appreciate  the  important  function 
which  Money  performs  in  our  present  social  systein. 

Thus  John  Kuskin  compares  peopl.;  with  partiality  for  mon- 
ey to  children  who  would  tear  furniture  to  pieces  and  light 
cacli  otlier  for  brassheaded  nails. 

And  an  economist  and  logician  like  John  S.  Mill  speaks  ol 
Money  as  "only  (I)  a  contrivance  for  saving  time  and  labor." 

Very  naive^  indeed!  As  if  that  were  not  enough!  lie  might 
just  as  well  dispose  of  railroads  by  rc^narking:  "  Bah!  they 
are  only  contrivances  for  saving  time  and  labor." 

Monc}'  is  precisely  so  precious,  because  it,  under  the  indus- 
trial system  which  we  have  now,  is  the  greatest  of  all  labor- 
saving  instruments.  People  are  separated  by  their  interests, 
by  a  nuUtipli'city  of  interests.  Money  brings  them  together; 
is,  as  it  is  termed,  a  medium  of  exchange  between  them.  That  is 
the  vital  f  imclion  of  ^loney.  That  medimn  of  exchange  is  the 
best  which  brings  people  together  in  the  easiest  and  quickest 
way;  and  that  is  just  what  Monoy  does  better  than  any  oilier 
connnodity.  Just  as  a  raihoad  is  a  more  efficient  contrivanco 
t'.ian  a  siagc-coach,  and  this  again  than  a  lumber-wagon,  so 
Gold  and  Silver  are  better  media  of  exchange  than  wheat  or 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY.  137 

tobacco  or  oxen  or  any  other  commodity  that  has  been  tried. 
Moue}''  was  invented,  as  any  other  labor-saving  instrument  has 
been  invented  :  to  save  time  and  hibor;  to  escape  the  deadlocK 
of  Barter. 

But  what  is  it  that  makes  a  railroad  at  all  useful?  The  fact, 
that  men  are  separated  in  space.  Imagine,  however,  that  dis- 
tance were  annihilated,  then  there  would  certainly  be  no  eartb 
ly  use  for  a  railroad. 

fn  tlie  same  manner,  whenever  men's  interest  cease  to  be 
adverse;  whenever  these  interests  become  identical,  as  they 
will  become  under  our  Commonwealth  by  perfect  association, 
then  evidently,  the  business  of  ]\Ioney  will  begone.  Gold  and 
Silver  will  then  become  absolutely  worthless  as  Money,  as  far 
as  the  internal  affairs  ot  Society  are  concerned — they  will  have, 
of  course,  to  be  used  as  Money  in  all  intercourse  with  other 
Nations  who  have  not  yet  embraced  Socialism.  Then  John 
Ruskin  may  assert,  that  they  are  not  worth  much  more  than 
brassheaded  nails — bnt  not  till  then. 

How  will  Exchange  then  be  carried  on?  By  Acconnt.  fa-  . 
cilitated  by  some  such  contrivance  as  labor-checks.  The  cur- 
rent of  development  is  running  in  that  direction :  first  we  have 
Barter,  then  Money,  and  even  now  Account  is  more  and  more 
supplanting  the  latter,  the  more  and  more  closely  we  are  be- 
coming associated.  When  in  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth 
Money  has  been  superannuated  we  shall  have  nothing  but 
cheeks,  notes,  tickets — whatever  j^ou  will  call  them — issued 
by  authority. 

'*  Ah  I     So  you  Socialists  are  half-Greenbackers." 

You  are  mistaken,  sir !  It  would  be  more  correct  to  say, 
that  Greenbackers  are /ia7/-Socialists ;  and  because  they  are 
only  that  '-half'  v/e  maintain  they  are  wholly  wrong,  even 
on  the  money-question.  We  have  already  seen  that  on  the 
broader  question  of  social  development  they  are  absolute  re- 
actionists ;  that  they  have  no  fault  to  find  with  individual  own- 
ership of  the  instruments  of  labor,  but  war  against  its  inevit- 
able natural  development. 

By  the  way.  there  is  leally  something  curious  about  thi? 
greenback  movement  in  our  country.     How  shall  we  account 


138  SOCIAL   ECONOMY. 

for  it?  May  not  tlie  reason  for  this  abnormal  plienonienon  be 
S()n<^lit  in  the  fact  that  the  '' Ahiiighty  Dollar"  is  peculiarly 
tlie  Amevlcan  fetish  ? 

Btit  to  return  to  thy  distinction  between  Socialists  and  the 
consistent  Greenhackers :  the  ^a^-men.  The  latter  propose, 
tliat  the  State  shall  issue  its  notes,  tender  them  to  its  creditors 
iiud  ^ive  them  to  the  People  saying :  '*  Take  this !  With  this 
dollar-note  you  can  go  anywhere  within  my  jurisdiction  and 
buy  one  dollar's  worth  of  goods  with  it." 

The  great  trouble,  however,  is  that  the  State  of  these  fiat- 
men  is  the  present  State.  They  want  to  abolish  Money — that 
Is  the  precious  metals  as  Money — and  yet  to  retain  the  present 
system  of  production,  which  is  just  as  irrational  as  a  scheme 
would  be  to  abolish  the  Pope  and  still  to  preserve  the  Catho- 
lic church.  For  wli:it  does  an  assertion  like  the  above  by  the 
])resent  State  amount  to?  It  is  a  promise,  without  any  possi- 
\  bl<^  performance,  for  the  simple  reason  that  this  State  has  ab- 
solutely no  title  to  the  goods  which  it  thus  disposes  of.  These 
belong,  by  its  own  sanction  and  concession,  to  individual  citi- 
zens. 

Now  note  how  much  more  logical  the  Socialist  position  is.  We 
claim  that  the  state  shall  first  take  possession  of  and  own  the 
Wai-ehouses  and  the  wares,  and  thereafter  issue  its  notes. 
Then,  and  not  till  then,  the  State  will  be  so  conditioned,  that 
it  can  i)erforni  what  it  promises.  For  then  it  can  say:*'(Jo 
into  any  of  mn  warehouses,  and  1  will  sell  3'ou  a  dollar's  worth 
of  my  goods  for  this  dollar  note  of  mine.'" 

The  distinction  on  the  money-question  then  is.  not  alone  that 
Greenbackersare  but  half-Socialistsbut  that  it  is  th('?rt/ie?*  part 
of  the  Socialist  program  which  thc}'^  have  api^iopriated;  they 
have  put  the  cart  l)efore  the  horse. 

It  will  further  he  seen  from  this,  that  we  differ  from  the 
Greenhackers.  and  agree  with  Political  Economists  in  holding, 
that  "money  is  the  tool  we  use  for  eflecting  exchange  by  the 
lielp  of  two  half-exchanges  of  conunodity  for  connnodity  :  " 
that  Money,  therefore,  is  a  commodity,  and  could  not  be  Money, 
if  it  were  not  a  commodity,  and  that  this  commodity,  like  all 
other   wares,   dei-ives   its    Value,   partly   from   its    scarcity. 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY.  .  139 

bnt  mainly  from  the  labor  crystalizccl  in  it;  and  tluit  our  pres- 
ent paper-money  is  but  a  representative  of  Monej^  * 

But  we  ngree  vvitli  tlie  Greenbackers  in  holding  that  Money 
is  destined  to  be  "  superannuated,"'  if  we  mny  use  the  term, 
as  payment  in  kind  has  long  since  been,  and  that  the  Credit  of 
the  Nation  will  take  its  place. 

We  shall  here  make  a  digression  to  state  definitely  our  po- 
sition in  regard  to  compensation  to  the  disi)0ss('ssed  owners 
of  property,  which  we  left  somewliat  unsettled  in  the  last 
chapter. 

We  suggested  there  that,  if  the  final  change  were  accom- 
plished by  force,  the  State  would  possibly  expropriate  our  n;en 
of  wealth  without  any  compensation  ^vhatever.  Their  oistiiKj 
rifjhts  (ire.  such  wJii'  li  the  law  gives  and  -what  the  law  (ji  es  law  can 
talce  awntj.  That  would  be  done  without  anj'  compunction  of 
conscience,  seeing  that  much  of  that  wealih  is  obtained  by 
questionable  methods,  and  very  much  of  it  by  tlu  trickery  of 
buying  and  selling,  wliieh  never  can  create  v..  U3.  and.  indeed, 
ought  net  to  rnrnish  the  manipulator  mere  subsist  nee.  Bnt  as 
a  ujatter  of  policy  the  State  may  see  fit  to  give  the  i)roprietoi'S 
a  fair  compensation  for  that  property  which  Society  took 
under  its  control.  Bnt  there  are  two  important  "  bnts*' to 
note. 

They  will  not  receive  any  interest  on  the  sums  allowed  them. 
When  all  interest  has  ceased  to  be  legitimate  throughout  So- 
ciety, Society  itself  will  hardly  charge  itself  with  that  burden. 

They  will  not  be  paid  in  Mone}-,  but  in  goods,  in  articles  of 
enjoyment,  furnished  in  annuities  to  those  whose  claim  insuf- 
ficiently large. 

Sui>pose  we  owe  Vanderbilt  a  sum  equal  to  one  hundred 
miliion  of  Dollars.  We  pay  him  a  million  a  year  for  a  hundred 
years,  and  cancel  the  debt.  Vanderbilt  could  then  take  his 
one  million  in  labor-checks,  or  whatever  products  die  chose, 
and  ninety-nine  millions  in  non-interest  bearing  U.  S.  ceitifi- 
eates  of  indebtedness,  and  use  them  in  Europe   or   elsewhere 

*  We  may  here  remark,  that  we  also,  with  Political  Econo- 
mi:it.'*,  consider  our  fractional  curren<;y,  not  Money  at  all.  but 
mere  counters,  tokens;  just  what  our  labor-checks  will  be. 


140  SOCIAL    ECONOMY. 

just  as  h^  pleased.  We  shonkl  say  that  this  would  be  adiug 
ver?/  generously  witli  him,  when  we  remember — what  it  will 
not  do  any  harm  once  more  to  call  attention  to. — that  Society 
never  yet  has  acted  in  a  like  spirit  of  social  justice  towards  the 
working  classes^  whenever  theu  suffered  injury,  and  grievous 
injury,  by  new  machinery  and  nevv  inventions. 

Socialists  of  old  used  to  insist  upon  the  abolition  of  the  Eight 
of  Inheritance  and  Bequest.  Now  we  can  see,  that  there  ab- 
solutely will  be  no  need  for  that.  And  it  is  well.  For  if  that 
which  I  gain  by  my  own  labor  is  rightfully  my  property — and 
the  Cooperative  ( 'oniuionwealth  will,  as  we  have  seen,  exact- 
ly sanction  that  claim — it  willbedecidedly  inexpedient  in  that 
Commonwealth  to  destroy  any  of  the  essential  qualities  of 
propertyship ;  and  1  can  hardly  call  that  my  property,  which 
I  may  not  give  to  whom  I  please  after  my  death.  Further,  to 
deny  me  that  right  is  undeniable  to  lessen,  by  so  much,  my  in- 
centives to  effort. 

There  will  be  no  need  to  do  away  with  that  right,  for  when 
property  can  no  longer  increase  from  interest,  and  fleecings; 
when  it  Jio  more  confers  power  on  its  possessor,  then  Private 
wealth  will  become  harmless. 

Take  even  a  Rothschild.  Suppose  him  compensated  in  full 
for  all  he  is  "' worth." — How  abominable  this  phrase  is!  so 
very  signiticant  of  our  age,  to  call  a  man  whose  body  and  soul 
may  not  be  worth  a  farthing  to  Society  •*  worth  "  millions  of 
dollars — well,  he  will  be  paid  in  bread  and  meat  and  luxuries 
and  wine  and  theatre-tickets.  Let  him  enjoy  these  things. 
Let  liim  till  himself  to  repletion!  Let  him  give  away  and 
squander  the  rest !  Do  not  be  afraid,  that  the  State  will  be 
burdened  for  many  generations  with  these  charges;  his  very 
next  heirs  will  see  to  it,  that  it  will  not.  These  immense  ac- 
cumulations will  not  last  so  very  long,  when  they  cease  to  be 
prolilic. 

But  our  present  laws  of  inheritance  may  very  likely  expe- 
rience gi-eat  modilications.  It,  certainl}^  is  absurd,  that  a  sec- 
ond cousin  ot  mine  who  does  not  know  hfmself  related  to  me, 
until   there   is  something  to  be  gained  by  it,  should  have  any 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY.  141 

claim  to  my  property  after  my  death.     But  that  is   a   matter 
loreigii  to  our  puri>o5e. 

'•  But,  to  returu  to  tlie  money  question,  how  will  you  dis- 
pense with  tlie  other  function  which  Money  now  performs  : 
that  of  measuring  vakies?" 

This  function  of  Money  as  a  Measurer  of  Values  is  really 
hut  ai?  incidental  one.  while  that  of  acting  as  a  Medium  of  EX' 
change  is  its  principal  and  true  function.  There  ai'e  abuiidauL 
reasons  why  the  precious  metals  should  be  the  media  of  ex- 
change, as  long  as  we  need  any.  hat  absolutely  no  reason  can 
be  given  for  either  gold  or  silver  being  a  better  measurer  of 
vaUies  than  any  other  commodity.  They  have,  in  fact,  always 
pel  formed  that  function  pooily;  gold  and  silver  havetluctua- 
ted  nearly  as  much  as  most  of  the  wares  whose  values  they 
had  to  measure. 

We  saw  in  the  first  chapter,  tiiat  it  is  reallj^  the  amount  of 
labor,  cr3'stalized  in  an  article,  which  determines  its  value; 
that  it  is  labor  which  determines  the  '••level''  value  of  even 
gold  and  silver;  that  is,  the  value  round  which  tiieir  market 
price  vibrates.  Why.  then,  would  not  a  definite  amount  of 
labor  be  a  far  more  appropriate,  constant  and  convenient  meas- 
ure ■?  The  change  would  have  the  great  advantage  of  enabling 
the  worker  to  know  for  certain  what  returns  he  receives  fur 
his  work,  lie  does  not  know  it  now,  for  Monc}'  obscures  the 
transactions  of  all  buying  and  selling;  it  serves  as  a  mask, 
which  this  change  will  tear  oft.  Instead  of  sajing.  that  acoat  is 
worth  so  many  "doUars,"  we  sliali  ia  the  New  Commonwealth 
discard  all  mystery  and  call  it  worth  so  much  work.  We,  there- 
fore, apprehend,  that,  just  as  one  of  our  greenbacks  promises  to 
pay  one  dollai-  on  demand,  these  labor-chjcks  of  which  we 
spoke  will  i)roinise  to  pay  on  demand  anything  of  the  value 
of,  say,  one  day's  labor  or  fractijual  part  thereof. 

''  AVell,  but  a  da^^'s  labor  by  one  person,  and  a  day's  la- 
bor by  another  are,  certainly,  very  different  things.  To  talk 
of  a  day's  labor  as  a  measure  is  about  as  definite  as  the  boy's 
comparison:  "•  long  as  a  string; '  is  it  not?" 

Yes,  but  it  would  make  some   diff'erence,   if  the  boy   said: 
"  long  as  this  string"  and  showed  it  to  you,  without  allowing 


142  SOCIAL    ECONOMY . 

yoii  to  moasiire  it  exactly.  The  unit :  "  a  day's  work"  will 
ni  an  the  simplest  work  of  average  efi  •L'lieij  of  a  normal  work^ 
iiKj  day.  We  would  here  recall  to  our  readers  what  was  said 
o  I  Va'm  ill  t!ie  rtrst  chapter.  It  was  there  stated,  amonp'  oth- 
er thiiii^s,  that  all  skilled  a;id  professional  work  is  nothing  but 
njiiltiplied  eonmion,  or  unskilled,  work.  We  once  more  cite  the 
words  of  llicardo:  '-Tiie  estimation  of  different  qualities  of 
Labor  com.'s  soon  to  be  adjusted  in  the  market  with  sufticieut 
precision  for  all  practical  i)urposes."  While  therefore  we 
grant  tliat  "a  day's  lal)or,''  iis  a  unit  of  value,  has  not  the  sci- 
cntilic  i)reci-^ion  of  a  foot-rule  as  a  unit  of  length,  we  claim, 
that  it  is  well  titted  to  supplant  the  dollar-unit.  When  five 
days'  labor  is  demanded  for  a  coat,  it  will  not  be  at  all  difHcult 
for  the  buyer  to  compare  that  with  the  amount  of  common 
work,  contained  in  his  own  day's  labor. 

The  distinguishing  economic  traits  of  the  New  Order,  con- 
sidered so  far  in  this  ciiapter,  were  of  a  negative  character: 
thej'  consisted  in  the  elimination  of  features  that  we  now  everj^- 
where  meet  with;  yet  this  change  alone  would  make  it  a  dif- 
ferent world  from  ours.  In  passing  over  to  the  positive  char- 
acteristics of  the  Cooperative  Coin-.nonwealth  we  should  keep 
in  mind  that  it  is  not  an  imai^inary  picture  drawn  on  a  blank 
tablet,  but  that  it  will  bear  the  same  relation  to  the  Established 
Order  that  tiie  full-blown  flower  bears  to  the  green  bud.  This 
relation,>>hip,  ind^^'.ed,  will  make  us  feel  quite  at  ho.n  .  if  we  in 
imagination  take  a  bird's-eye  view  of  its  economic  workings, 
though  we  should  find  ourselves  irretrievably  lost  in  its  labyr- 
inths, if  weattempted  to  treadour  way  through  itsdetails.  For 
its  grand  industrial  processes  will  be  carried  on  pretty  much  as 
they  now  are,  or  might  be,  conduct<'d  in  some  of  our  best  man- 
aged manufacturing  or  retail-selling  establishments.  Or  it 
might  perhaps  >uit  our  purpose  better  if  we  take  the  present 
State-management  of  our  postal  affairs  as  an  illustratio-i,  and 
compare  that  with  Socialist  management  of  all  our  industries. 

The  l*ostofiice  Department  was  self-sustaining,  before  the 
two-cent  rate  was  i.itro  luced.  and  will  beyond  doubt  be  so 
again  in  a  short  time.    That  is  to  say,  its  expenditures  in  sal- 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY.  1  13 

aries  for  all  in  its  service,  and  in  paying  for  transpf/rtation  of 
the  mails  and  printing  of  stamps  c(inalod,  at  the  end  of  tlie 
fiscal  year,  its  i-eceipts.  That  is  the  su  iiaiit  of  success,  for  to 
have  a  surplus,  to  make  any  ••  profit,"  is  contrary  to  tlie  end 
for  whicli  it  is  instituted. 

Let  us  now  see  how  this  most  important  matter  wiU  stand 
in  our  Commonwealth.  Its  receipts, — not  the  "  revenues  "  of 
which  we  spoke  a  few  pages  back  but — its  r/ross  lJeceii)ts,  the 
National  Income,  will  consist  of  the  total  results  of  the  pro- 
ductive labor  perfoi-med  in  a  given  year; — by  '-productive  la- 
bor'' is  of  course  not  meant  merely  agricultural  and  manu- 
facturing labor,  but  also  the  labor  of  transporting  and  hand- 
ling the  goods,  of  writing  books;  every  kind  of  labor,  in  short, 
thatcreates  values-in-exchange.  Its  Expenditures-Outgoings — 
will  consist  of  these  very  receipts  less  all  buildings  and  machinery, 
constructed  during  the  yeai-,  and  all  that  is  reserved  as  addi- 
tion to  its  Capital.  As  the  products  were  received  or  as  services 
were  rendered,  labor-checks  will  have  been  issued,  (or  perhaps 
such  money  a?  we  use  now,  which  then,  however,  will  have  no 
other  function  than  the  checks:  that  of  being  tickets,  tokens,) 
each  check  will  represent  so  and  so  many  normal  days  of  com- 
mon labor,  and  there  will  during  each  fiscal  year  have  been 
exactly  as  many  checks  issued  as  will  correspond  to  the  days 
of  labor,  productive  or  unproductive,  nctualbj  performed. 

The  outgoings  will  be  distributed  at  the  various  depots  or 
bazaars  of  the  Coujmonwealth  to  the  holders  of  these  checks, 
••sold"  there,  in  other  words.  These  check-holders  may  be 
those  to  whom  they  were  originally  issued,  or  strangers  visit- 
ing the  country  or  citizens  who  h:ive  parted  with  something 
valuable  fjr  them.  Thesn  bazaars  will  be  one  price  establish- 
ments. The  wares  will  have  their  value,  real,  "  natural "'  val- 
ue, asKicardo  termed  it.  which  is— as  we  saw  in  Chapter  /, — 
the  amount  of  luunan  labor  embodied  in  them;  that  deter- 
mines their  value  now.  has  always  done  it,  and  will  de- 
termine it  under  the  Xew  Order.  The  wares  will  be  sold  for 
a  price  equal  to  that  value,  with  possibly  a  ])ercentage  ad  Jed. 

For  it  will  be  noted  that  the  ehecks  issued  represent  and  call 
for  more  davs  labor  than  arc  contained  in  the  products,    lies- 


144  SOCIAL    ECONOxMY. 

tilled  for  distribution.  There  are,  first,  tlie  checks  issued  to 
tliose  citizens  who  hav«'  performed  iinproduciive  labor:  phys- 
io'iatis,  j:id;T^es,  tcacliers,  clerks,  domestic  iielpers  &c.and.  next, 
checks  f  jr  ihe  labor  contained  in  what  is  set  aside  as  Capital. 
There  are  thus  a  good  many  legitimate  claims  which  must  be 
extraordinaiil}'  provided  for.  The  Commonwealth  has  already 
a  fund  on  which  it  can  draw  considerably  for  these  purposes: 
its  rent-fund.  In  all  probabilitj'-,  however,  an  impost  will,  in 
addition,  have  to  be  laid  on  the  sales;  that  is,  goods  represent- 
ing 20  days  of  Labor  will  be  sold  for  checks,  representing,  say, 
21  days  of  labor.  This,  though  realh'  plain,  m.ty  seem  intri- 
cate to  many,  but  if  the  social  transactions  of  to-day  were  sim- 
ilarly analyzed,  they  would  appear  far  more  complex. 

But  it  is  of  the  highest  importance  that  the  Commonwealth 
shall  dispose  of  all  the  products  it  thus  offers  f»r  distribution, 
or  else  there  will  be  labor-checks  outstanding  which  it  has  no 
means  of  satisfying.  Somebody  might  bring  forward  some 
such  (Ejection  as  this : 

''I  understood  you  to  saj-^  that  the  prices  will  be  rigidly  fixed. 
But  what  if  Demand  and  Supply  should  play  you  tricks'?  Sup- 
pose a  ifabric  goes  out  of  fashion,  so  that  your  citizens  will 
not  buy  it  at  all.  or  at  all  events  refuse  to  pay  the  price  that 
is  put  upon  it.  Is  j'our  Commonwealth  going  to  force  it  down 
the  throats  of  consumers?  You  Socialists  do  not  propose  to 
abolish  a  law  of  Nature,  do  you?  '' 

This  is  our  answer:  We  admit  that  Demand  and  Supply  is 
a  natural  law;  that  is,  that  if  consumption  and  production 
does  not  fit  together  throughout  the  entire  extent  of  both,  mis- 
chief will  be  the  consequence  at  all  times,  and  Socialists  are 
not  such  fools  as  to  suppose,  that  they  can  decree  away  any 
natural  law  or  force.  We  do,  however,  suppose,  that  we  may 
in  time  become  as  much  master  of  the  force  implied  in  Demand 
and  Supply,  as  we  already  are  of  other  natural  forces.  We 
have  not  decreed  away  the  laws  of  steam,  and  yet  we  make 
MOW  the  steam  propel  our  siiips  across  the  ocean  and  carry 
oiu"  burdens  across  the  continent.  We  can  change  or  remove 
entirely  the  conditions  under  which  those  natural  forces  act, 
and,  thus,  wilhouL  abolishing  any  law  whatever,  compel  theiu 


SOCIAL    ECONOMY.  145 

to  act  ill  a  more  beneficent  manner;  or  to  become  latent,  ttuit 
is,  to  suspend  their  effects  altogether. 

[ndeed,  we  see  almost  every  day  how  pow-^erf ul  private  indi- 
viduals under  our  present  system  do  control  Siipphj  tor  their 
own  sinister  purposes.  The  combinations  ot  lailroad  com- 
panies between  each  other  or  among  themselves  and  oil-com- 
lianies  of  which  we  spoke  in  Chapter  11  ViYii  sucli  interferences 
vith  a  natural  force  which,  if  it  only  were  permitted  to  act 
Fpoutaneously,  would  act  most  beneficently,  and  as  to  Demand^ 
it  may  be  worth  while  to  note  that  the  freaks  of  fashion  origi- 
nate usually  in  the  private  cupidity  of  manufacturers  and  even 
in  that  of  insignificant  tailors  and  milliners. 

The  Commonwealth  will  use  its  vast  power  over  the  con- 
ditions of  Demand  and  Supply  to  establish  and  preserve  econ- 
omic equilibrium.  It  undoubtedly  can  by  proper  foresight  and 
abunda  nt  statistics  accurately  adjust  the  supply  of  all  prod- 
ucts to  the  demand  for  them;  make  Supply  and  Demand  bal- 
ance each  other.  This  function  of  Statistician  will  be  one  of 
the  most  important  within  its  sphere,  and  the  principal  way 
in  which  it  will  control  the  workers  in  their  industrial  pur- 
suits. We  think  the  Commonwealth  will  thereby  be  qiute  suc- 
cessful i;i  keepi)ig  prices  steady,  and  in  making  the  chance  for 
DenLuul  and  Supi)ly  to  play  aiu'  ''tricks"  extremely  small. 
We  think  so,  because  w  i  see.  with  what  accuracy  the  mana- 
ger of  a  large  hotel  hits  upon  the  proper  quantities  of  the  iimii- 
merable  articles  of  i'ood.  required  by  his  guests. 

But  Denia-.id  and  Supply  will,  as  a  matter  of  course,  when- 
ever it  gets  the  cliauc'.  make  the  prices  vibrate  above  and  be- 
low the  real  value.  Thus,  should  the  supply  anywhere  be  ex- 
cessive, <'ither  fi-o;ii  miscalculation  or  from  the  whim  of  fash- 
ion— which  by  the  way,  we  may  rest  assured  will  be  pretty  ef- 
fectually curbed  by  Public  Opinion  in  a  society  like  the  Co- 
operative Comaionwealth — then  the  goods  may  have  to  be  sac- 
rificed, and  the  prices  correspondingly  lowered.  The  Coiu- 
mo:i wealth  may  have  to  stand  the  loss,  as  the  universal  insurer, 
which  it  will  be  abundantly  able  to  do.  Sh  )ul.l.  o;i  the  other 
ha  111.  the  supply  be  deficient,  as  nmst,  always  be  the  case  with 
a  limited  luimber  of  products  (particular   kinds   of  wine,    for 


J  46  SOCIAL   ECONOMV. 

instance.)  in  such  case  the  Com;nonwealth  \v  ill  r;ii>;e  th'*  piice 
CO  convsponil  to  the  de  nand  ami  1)3  to  thit  extent  a  gainer. 
Very  likely  tliis  gain  and  loss  will  generally  balance  each  other. 

Of  conrse  all  export  and  import  will  be  nnler  collective  coi- 
trol.  Apartof  its  rec'^ipts.  so  much  as  it  judges  will  not  be  needl- 
ed for  horae-CDnsuinption,  the  Commonwealth  will  excliange 
for  such  foreign  products  as  there  will  be  a  home-demand  for, 
and  which  it  cannot  itself  produce  so  prolitably  or  success- 
fully, whether  it  be  on  account  of  climate  or  other  causes. 
The  lines  of  our  co.nmerce  will  therefore  very  likely  couk;  to 
run  from  North  to  South  ruther  than  from  East  to  West. 

That  is  an  arrangement  tliat  everybody  will  be  satisfied  with, 
a  consummation  which  will  change  the  discord  which  now  ob- 
trains  in  regard  to  a  tariff  iato  complete  harmony.  It  will  sat- 
Ufy  those  who  now  sincerely  advocate  a  policy  of  protection. 
We  cannot  agree  with  Henry  George  when  he  cannot  see  any- 
thing but '' fallacies  "  and  ''absurdities"  in  the  protection- 
theory.  This  theory  is  so  mud)  in  harmony  with  the  present 
tendency  of  theStateinthe  direction  of  Socialism,  that  we  can- 
notbut  sympathize  with  it  Bat  thetrouble  is  that  our  "protec- 
tive" tariffs  ^?o  not  protect  those  who  need  protection^  but  protect 
simply  the  profit-rate  of  e:nployers;  the  trouble  is,  that  our 
tariffs  are  adopted  and  m  ii!itained  in  hypocrisy,  ngiim  hypocrisy 
and  nothing  but  iiYrocr.iSY. 

There  is,  on  the  other  hand,  this  sound  element  in  the  free- 
trade  theory  that  it  is  foolish  for  this  country  to  produce  here 
what  we  can  get  much  more  profitably  and  better  from  for- 
eign countries.  But  those  who  agitate  so  violently  for  it,  ev- 
idantly.  do  it  because  a  free-trade  policy  would  put  money  in- 
to their  pockets.  As  long  as  one  s<'t  of  individuals  see  profit 
in  one  policy  and  atiotlier  set  in  another,  the  tariff  can  but  he 
a  shuttlecock,  tossed  back  and  forth  by  conllicting  interests. 
To  frame  a  tariff  law  that  will  pacify  all  interests  is  about  ns 
ingenious  an  idea  as  to  pray  to  God  for  a  mild  winter  without 
prejudice  to  the  coal-dealers. 

Now  we  come  to  one  of  the  most  important  differences  be- 
tween the  condition  of  the  workers  under  the  New  Order  untl 


SOCIAL   ECONOMl  .  147 

their  condition  under  a  system  of  private  enterprise.  Now 
tlie  wages  of  the  workers — and  also  wages  of  letter  carriers — 
are  determined,  as  we  have  seen,  iu  tSie  last  place  by  what  it 
costs  to  live  and  raise  a  family:  in  the  Commonwealth,  as  our 
definition  shows,  the  workers  will  be  rewarded  according  to 
results,  whether  mechanics  or  chiefs  of  industry  or  transporcers 
or  salesmen.  The  productive  workers  will  each  receive  for  every 
day's  common  labor  a  check,  entitling  him  to  one  day's  com- 
mon labor  in  return — less  his  share  of  the  impost,  (his  pre- 
mium, it  may  be  called,  which  he  pays  to  the  National  Insur- 
ance Company,  and  his  part  of  the  public  charges.)  Those 
engaged  in  uni^roductive  vocations  will  receive  similar  sal- 
aries out  of  the  rent  or  impost-fund.  They  all  will  thus  re- 
ceive the  full  value  of  their  labors,  and  whenever  they  buy 
an3ahing,  they  will  simply  pay  wages  and  salaries,  and  no 
profits. 

"  Yes,  it  is  easy  to  say,  that  every  one,  whether  he  be  teacher 
or  physician  or  chief  of  industry  or  artisan  or  hodcarrier  will  re- 
ceive a  day's  labor  lor  a  day's  labor,  by  which  I  understand  you 
to  mean  a  day  of  common  labor  for  a  day  of  common  labor.  But 
how  is  such  a  comparison  of  common  labor  (of  a  day  of  the  hod- 
carrier's  labor  for  instance)  to  be  made  with  skilled  labor  or 
professional  labor  with  perfi-ct  justice  to  all?  And  who  are  the 
persons  who  are  to  be  intruste  1  with  such  a  delicate  and  dic- 
tatorial function?  You  Socialists  seem  to  treat  this  important 
matter  with  too  great  llippancy.  Such  a  gradation  of  labor  is, 
in  fact,  entirely  visionary,  and  that  is  enough  to  relega'.eyour 
Cooperative  Commonwealth  into  the  realm  of  Utopia." 

Hold  on,  sir!  The  New  Order  will,  6?/ wo  mea/is,  hinge  up- 
on this  matter.  It  will  be  realized,  because  Nature  ordains  it, 
because  at  a  certain  point  in  time,  SociQly  icill  have  to  realize  it ^ 
or  decay. 

And  when  we  shall  have  arrived  at  that  crisis,  we  hope,  that 
the  leaders  of  the  Revolution  will  not  be  such  visionaries  as 
to  commence  by  trying  to  do  i)er/ect  justice  to  any  body.  They 
will  know  better,  than  to  assume  to  themselves  the  attributes 
of  gjds.  They  will,  we  hope,  be  practical  men  who  simp- 
ly try  to  be  as  just  as  they  can  be,  consistently  with  the  best 


148  SOCIAL    ECONOIMT. 

interests  of  the  whale.  Anil  we  think,  that  tlioy  can  n.>t  hot- 
ter show  their  practical  co  n  non  S3:ise.  than  by  adoptino^  the 
gradation  already  mad?,  that  is,  by  retainin':^  for  an  unlimited 
period  tlici  ratio  of  wa<^es  which,  at  the  time  of  the  change, 
will  obtain  in  the  v<irians  branches  of  muiual  wark  and  for 
the  different  qualities  of  woi'k  ueii.  This  ratio  will  furnish 
theju  a  sufficiently  accurate  "  gradation  of  laboi*." 

'J"o  go  a  little  into  details:  Suppose  they  go  to  work  and 
establish,  first  of  all.  a  normal  daj',  say.  of  eight  hours,  and 
l)ay  the  w.>rkers  twice  the  wages  wiiieli  eaeli  one  has  been 
receiving,  on  an  average,  for  the  ten  years  im  ne;liately  pre- 
ceeding.  We  have  no  doubt,  that  the  wages  can  be  raised  and 
th  5  working  day  shortened  tlvit  much  with  perfect  safety,  con- 
sid '.ring  the  enorn  )ns  aJvantages  of  Cooperative  Industry, 
which  we  dwelt  up^n  in  i\\i  prcee  li.ig  chap:;er.  Anyway,  a 
few  m  uitlis  experience  will  teach  them,  whether  they  have 
raised  the  wages  too  much,  or  not  higli  enougli. 

And  please  bear  in  mind  that  the  members  of  each   branch 
of  industry  and  every  calling  will  settle  that  matter  of  renm- 
neration  for  tliemselves.  They  will  be  entitled  as  a  body  to  the 
proceeds  of  all  the  labor  they  havecmbodie  1  i  i  the  product  they 
create,  and  that  they  distribute  a  nong  themselves  just  as  they 
please — subject  to  appeal  to  the  Connion  wealth  as  Arbitrator. 
Dr.  Green,  the  Pres'dent  of  the  We^tu-u  Union,  is  re[>orted  to 
have  remarked  in  his  evidence   before  a   Senate-Committee: 
'^  I  shall  never  agree  that  the  operators  should  have,  or  b«dieve 
they  had,   the  power  of  iixing   their   own  salaries."    They 
nevertheless  will  have  that  power  sometime,  doctor,  as  sure  as 
the  world  moves  I 

15nt  in  regard  to  the  work  of  the  chiefs  of  industry  and  pro- 
fessionals they,  undoubtedly,  will  institute  a  new  '"gradation  of 
l;ibor."  There  will  be  no  more  $53,033  or  $23,033  or  even  $10, 
003  salaries  paid.  These  fancy  salaries  are  )iow  possible,  and 
now  considere^l  prop.-r.  only,  because  large  fortunes  can  at 
preseiic  be  made  in  what  is  known  as **■  business."  When* •bus- 
iness"' is  done  away  with  ;  then  their  services  will  be  compared 
witii  manual  work,  as  they  ought  to  be.  and  be  paid  for  accor- 
dingly. 


SOCIAL    ECONOMY.  149 

Tliat  constitutes  one  of  the  points,  in  which  our  postal  sys- 
tem is  not  yet  sociahstic.  In th ^  Cooperative  Comaionwoalth, 
the  Postmaster  General  will  not  receive  $10,003  while  letter 
carriers  mnst  be  satisfied  with  $800. 

Of  course,  in  instituting  the  new  '•  gradation  "  in  the  labors  of 
the  teacher,  the  doctor,  they  will  make  allowance  for  the  many 
yeai's  of  stud}'  these  men  have  needed  t3  proparly  qvialify 
themselves,  liut  Ju?t  i;i  the  sam3  way  th3  watchmakers  la- 
bor will  be,  and  is,  rated  above  thatof  thehodcarrier,  because 
h\!>  years  of  apprenticeship  m  ust  bo  compensated  for.  It  means 
simply,  that  botii  professional  and  skilled  labor  is  multiplied 
common  labor. 

Do  not  here  object,  that  if  the  rewards  of  captains  of  in- 
dustries and  of  the  professions  are  th'is  reilnced  to  a  level  with 
manual  labor,  men  of  genius  and  of  natural  gifts  will  then 
part  with  the  manag  Miient  of  affairs  and  with  the  professions. 

Thc}^  will  not,  unless  you  also  can  siiow,  that  they,  also, 
will  leave  the  world  on  that  account. 

Tney  will  find  their  ulterior  reward  in  the  zest  of  intellectu- 
al activit3\  the  joys  of  creative  genius,  the  honor  of  directing 
afiiiirs  and  the  social  distinction  they  will  enjoy. 

Do  not  object,  either,  that  sueh  a  cojipensatio.i  runs  counter 
to  the  Socialist  principle,  that  everyone  is  entitled  to  the  full 
proceeds  of  his  own  labor;  that,  therefore,  a  manager  who  by 
his  skill  causes  a  factory  to  earn  §100,000  may  claim  that 
amtjtint  as  his  reward. 

A  man  is  entitled  to  the  full  proceeds  of  his  labor — against 
any  other  individual,  but  not  against  Society.  Society  is  not 
bound  to  reward  a  man  either  in  proportion  to  his  services, 
nor  yet  of  his  wants,  but  according  to  expediency;  according 
to  the  behests  of  her  own  welfare.  Man's  work  is  not  a  quid 
pro  quo  but  a  trust.  The  other  construction  would  lead  to  the 
absurdity,  that  no  existhig  fortunes  could  give  any  idea  of  the 
monstrous  accumulation  of  riches  of  the  heirs  of  a  Ivepler  or 
a  Newton,  or  still  more  of  a  Robert  Fulton,  a  Watts  or  a  Alorse, 
if  these  men  could  have  claimed  all  the  results  of  their  inven- 
tions. 

It  will  thus  be  seen,  that  the  labors  of  tliose  invested   with 


150  SOCIAL  ECONOMY. 

the  "  clolicate"  function  of  apportionin;?  the  rewards— who 
these  persons  are  likely  to  be  we  shall  consider  in  the  eii^^hth 
chapter — will  not  be  so  very  herculean,  for  the  first  f^enerarion. 
at  least;  nor  need  these  persons  be  at  all  "dictatorial."  We 
do  not  call  our  Compress  ••  dictatorial,"  when  it  fixes  the  sal- 
aries of  the  President  or  of  Jndi^es. 

This  will  be  the  c^lorious  achievement  of  the  Cooperative 
Commonwealth;  that  the  whole  proceeds  of  Labor  will  be  dis- 
tributed, exclusively,  a  nin:^  those  who  do  the  labor.  But 
what  needs  to  be  impressed  upon  Socialist  workmen  especial- 
ly, is  :  that  common  prudoice  should  make  them  turn  the  cold 
shoulder  to  the  idea  of  ?VZea77>/ just  wages,  and  on  the  other 
hand,  make  them  satisfied  with  the  present  ratio  of  wac:es^ 
at  all  events  till  a  more  perfect,  and  at  the  same  time  expedi- 
ent  gradation  of  labor  has  been  perfected. 

When  the  Cooperative  Cominonwoalth  has  worked  for  a 
couple  of  generations;  when  the  student  and  the  watchmaker 
are  supported  by  the  State  during  their  years  of  study  and 
apprenticeship  and  furnished  all  appliances  i-equisite  to  their 
training,  then  another  rule  may  obtain.  Then,  perhaps,  as 
some  Socialists  now  contend,  one  hoiu"  of  the  teacher's  work 
and  one  hour  of  the  hodcarrier's  work  will  be  ])ald  for  alike — 
tliougli  it  must  be  observed,  that/,  i.  in  difficulty  the  teaclier's 
work  does  not  at  all  resemble  the  work  of  the  hod-arrier — 
but  to  speculate  upon  that  in  our  generation  can  properly  be 
termed  •'Utopian." 

Ft  is  worth  while  for  workingmen  to  study  the  case  of  the 
tailoi-  a>sociat'on,  founded  by  Louis  Blanc  at  Clichy  in  1848, 
which  had  to  give  up  equal  pay. 

We  now,  la«;tly,  come  to  the  greatest  economic  achievement 
of  the  Coming  Commonwealth.  Our  definition  said,  that  its 
citizens  would  be,  consciously  and  avowedly,  i)ublic  function- 
al ies.  That,  alone,  is  an  object  worth  striving  for,  worth  dy- 
ing for. 

When  reformers  call  our  workingmen  "  white  slaves"  and 
speak  of  their  condition  as  "  slavery,"  many  well-meaning  per- 
eons  <leem  these  terms  extravagant  and  attribute  them  to  dem- 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY.  151 

agojj^ism.    "Row,  in  all  <?oberness.  are  they  extravagant? 

Wo.  shall  entirely  on)it  any  reference  to  extreme  case5  of 
oppresssion  on  the  part  of  employers  towards  their  employees, 
and  eonfine  onrseives  to  wliat  all  wage- workers  mnst  snbmit 
to — whether  they  he  mechani(;s,  clerks  or  telegraph-operators. 
And  let  us  remark  that  here,  as  wherever  we  have  spoken  of 
"  wage-workers,"  we  have  excluded  and  do  exclude  domestic 
servants  of  every  sort.  We  have  already  seen  that  these 
workers  are  obliged  to  go  into  the  general  market  with  their 
labor,  which  is  their  ware,  and  there  sell  it  for  a  price,  vibra- 
ting now  a  little  above,  now  a  little  below,  what  is  necessary  to 
their  subsistence. 

Now,  what  does  this  "  selling  their  labor"  amount  to? 

We  know  a  man  who,  though  he  is  far  from  being  a  Robert 
Owen,  may  very  well  in  regard  to  sincerity,  kindness  and  ha- 
tred of  all  shams  be  compared  to  that  philanthropist.  He  was 
a  prominent  Abolitionist,  but  is  not  particularly  averse  to  the 
present  Industrial  system, which,  indeed,  has  enabled  hira  to 
gather  in  quite  a  respectable  fortune  by  the  simple  process  of 
buying  and  selling.  We  think  he  is  a  good  sample  of  the  best 
kind  of  employers.  To  his  clerks  he  is  fond  of  remarking: 
'•Your  time  is  mine,  you  know"  and  he  puts  this  tlieory  into  prac- 
tice to  its  fullest  extent.  If  any  one  should  suggest  to  him  that 
he,  the  model  of  an  employer,  was  a — slaveholder,  ( !)  he 
would  be  very  much  surprised. 

Yet  what  does  this  phrase  imply?  "Your  time  is  mine" 
means  "  your  body  is  mine,  your  actions  are  mine  for  so  many 
hours  out  of  the  twenty  four.  You  must  do  nothing,  say  noth- 
ing, go  nowhere  as  yon  please  but  as  /  please.  /  want  you  to 
do  this  thing  now,or,"  of  course  it  is  understood.  "  I  discharge 
you."  Ills  clerks  are  subject  to  his  indivi  lual.  irresponsible  will : 
their  preferences  are  not  so  much  as  thouirht  of. 

What  in  the  name  of  reason  is  that  but  slavery?  Was  not 
"  your  time  is  mine  "  the  ver}'^  ess<^nce.  the  definition  of  negro- 
slavery?  True,  a  master  could  sell  his  slave;  but  there  cer- 
tainly were  many  masters  who  did  not  dream  of  ever  selling 
their  negroes;  were  these  therefore  loss  slaves?  True,  a  mas- 
ter  could  whip  his  slave ;  but  our  employer  can  discharge  his 


152  SOCIAL   ECONOMT. 

clerks  whenever  it  takes  his  fancy.  whJcli  probably  would  Jj.ive 
worse  consequences  for  the  clerks  than  a  whipping  wouhl. 
The  fact  is.  tliese  were  mere  accessories.  Slavery  is  not  yrt 
ahoUshed.  'I'he  very  principle,  subjection,  which  ruled  under 
ancient  shivery,  under  serfiii^e,  and  negro  slavery,  rules  yet 
under  tlie  w\age-systeni.  Tliat  makes  the  system  essentially 
immoral ;  it  demoralizes  the  employer  as  well  as  tlie  em- 
ployee. 

And  this  relation  becomes  absolutely  unbearable,  if,  as  very 
often  is  the  case,  the  employee  has  more  knowledge,  more 
brains,  a  fuller  head,  in  short,  than  his  employer — for  it  has 
rightly  been  said  that  all  that  is  necessary  to  success  in  busi- 
ness is  •'  great  concentration,  continuous  application  and  an 
absurdly  exaggerated  idea  of  one's  own  importance"' — it  is  unbear- 
able, when  the  employee  feels  that  in  a  social  system  where 
position  depended  upon  merit  he  would  be  the  one  in  authority. 

There  is  no  halting  place  between  Subjection  and  Inter-de- 
pendence. Independence  cannot  be  had  for  all.  The  em- 
ployer we  referred  to  boasts  of  being  independent.  The  trouble 
is  he  is  too  independent :  one  man  cannot  be  independent,  with- 
out making  others  dependent  on  him.  The  wage-sj'stem  is 
only  Subjection  in  a  milder  form,  perhaps;  another  instance 
of  the  chronic  hj-pocrisy  of  our  age.  That  is  shown  yovj  well 
by  the  constant  talk  about  the  relation  of  the  wage-workers 
being  one  of  contract.  Well!  if  it  is,  it  is  a  very  one-sided 
contract,  one  where  the  employee  has  but  to  say  •"  Amen." 
By  selling  his  labor  the  lucge-worker  virtually  sells  himself. 

The  Cooperative  Commonwealth  will  abolish  slavery  by  the 
roots  by  raising  all  private  employments  to  the  dignity  of  pub- 
lic fimctions.  'J'his  change,  while  it  will  not  essentially  alter 
the  existing  mode  of  exercising  them,  will  yet  alone  transform 
their  general  spirit,  for  it  will  forever,  ^r.^i,  do  away  with  De- 
pendence of  one  individual  upon  another;  next.,  take  awiy 
from  those  in  authority  the  irresponsible  power  of  Discharge, 
and.  lastly.,  relieve  the  worker  from  the  necessity  of  going  in- 
to the  market  and  selling  himself  as  a  ware. 

Do  not,  however,  suppose,  that  there  will  be  no  subordina- 
tion  under  the  new  order  of  things.     Subordination  is  an  ab- 


SOCIAL   ECONOIHT.  153 

solute  essential  of  Cooperation;  indeed.  Cooperation  is  Disci- 
pline. 

Do  not  suppose,  either,  that  Demand  and  Supply  will  cease 
altoi^ether  to  have  an  inflnence  on  Labor.  As  a  natural  force, 
it  will  exert  itself  whonevor  it  gets  a  chance,  but  the  coni- 
ino:  Common^vealth  will  see  to  it  that,  whenever  it  does  act.  it 
acts  beneficently.     We  shall  see  li^ra  in  what  manner. 

It  is  as  we  have  stated,  for  the  Commonwealth  to  determine, 
in  its  character  of  Statistician,  how  much  of  a  given  ]u-odnct 
shall  be  ]iroduced  the  coming  year  or  season.  That  is  pre- 
emin'^"^*"ly  its  sphere,  however  much  the  workers  of  the  differ- 
ent branches  will  otherwise  be  left  to  manage  their  own  affairs. 
huppose  in  a  given  industry  production  will  hav^e  to  be  narrow- 
ed down  to  one  half  the  usual  quantum.  It  follows,  that  in 
such  case  the  workmen  can  only  work  half  the  usual  time  and 
that  th(!re  will  only  be  one  half  the  usual  proceeds  to  be  dis- 
tributed among  them. 

What  must  be  the  result?  Evidently  the  men's  remunera- 
tion will  have  to  be  reduced  one  half,  or  a  corresponding  num- 
ber of  workers  will  have  to  pass  over  to  some  other  employment 
— for  the  consequences  of  such  a  disorder,  Avhich  may  be  Dcr- 
manent  and  is  not  the  result  of  either  miscalculation  or  misfor- 
tune, will,  certainly,  not  be  borne  by  Society  at  large;  and  the 
Commonwealth,  while  it  guarantees  ftuUahle  employment,  can 
certainly  not  guarantee  a  ^^ar^zcif/a?*  employment,  to  cveiy- 
body. 

A  change  of  occupation,  however,  will  in  that  Commonwealth 
be  tolerably  easy  for  the  worker,  on  accomit  of  the  high  grade 
of  general  education,  and  because  all  will  have  passed  through 
a  thorough  apprenticeship  in  general  meclianics.  Certain  crit- 
ics of  Socialism  object  that  no  person  under  it  will  have  any 
effective  choice  in  regard  to  emplo3'ment.  The  above  shows 
how  little  foundation  there  is  for  such  a  criticism.  r>nt  we 
should  like  to  know  how  much  '••  effective  choice ''  the  vast  ma- 
jority of  men  now  have  in  regard  to  employment  or  wages,  or 
place  of  abode  or  anything  else. 

Another  critic  once  remarked  to  the  writer  in  regard  to   the 
Commonwealth  absorbing  all  social  activities ;    *■'  What  a  tyr- 


154  SOCIAL    ECONOMY. 

anny,  to  foibkl  a  Meissonier  to  paint  a  little  bit  of  canvass  anrl 
sell  it  for  .^100.000.  if  anyone  would  buj-  it?"  Why,  it  would 
be  t3'rann3'^  to  forbid  it.  And  we  liave  no  reason  to  think  it 
will  ])e  forbidden.  We  therefore  also  said  that  there  mif^lit 
be  citizens  who  would  acfjuire  labor-checks  by  parting  with 
something  valuable  to  other  citizens.  But,  really,  we  do  not 
Kuppose  there  will  be  any  citizen  in  The  Cooperative  Common- 
wealth, wlien  some  time  has  elapsed,  who  has  got  $100,000  to 
squander  on  a  bit  of  canvass,  and  none  should  deplore  it,  for 
if  that  fact  would  deprive  the  Commonwealth  of  Meissoniers^ 
it  surelj'"  will  not  rob  it  of  liaphaels  or  Michael  Angelas.  It  is 
just  one  of  the  curses  of  this  age  that  it  has  out  of  artists  made 
lackeys  of  the  lich.  Phidias,  Raphael,  Michael  Angelo,  min- 
istered to  the  People. 

We  now  shall  consider  how  it  is  possible  to  have  due  subor- 
dination in  a  State  where  all  dependence  of  one  individual 
upon  another  is  destroyed.  The  political  expression  of  Inter- 
dependence is — Democracy, 


CHAPTER  VII. 


DEMOCRACY    VerSUS     PAETY    GOVERNMENT. 


"  '  Behold  I  Now  I,  too.  have  my  twenty-thousandth  part  vi 
a  Talker  in  our  National  Palaver.' — What  a  noiion  of  Lib- 
ert}^ I" — Carlyle. 

''  I  believe  that  party,  instead  of  being  a  machinery  neces- 
sary to  the  existence  of  free  j::overnnient.  is  its  most  dano^er- 
ous  foe,  and  that  in  order  to  ^et  anytliinji  which  really  de- 
serves the  name  of  repnbiican  governnient,  we  must  destroy 
party  altogether.-' — A  True  liepublic  by  Albert  Stickney. 

'•Nay,  m  ist  we  not  rather  confess,  that  that  unlovely  crca- 
tnro.  the  habitual  othoe-seeker,  is  as  natural  a  product  of  onr 
political  and  social  conditions  as  the  scrub-oak  is  of  the  soil, 
when  it  has  been  laid  waste  b}'- the  removal  of  the  primeval 
forest?" — Bichard  Grant  White^  N.  A.  Beview^  July  1882. 

At  this  stage,  certainly — and  probably  as  soon  as  the  idea  of 
Collective  Control  of  all  the  affairs  of  the  Natiou  was  broached 
— mau}'^  an  inquirer  exclaims  with  supreme  disgust : 

"■  So  you  actually  propose  to  increase  the  spoils  of  office  a 
hundred,  yea  a  thousandfold  !  What  a  bedlam  you  would  make 
of  these  United  States  at  election  times !! !  And  then  noth- 
ing short  of  a  revolution  would  ever  suffice  to  dislodge  the 
party  in  possession  of  the  government,  however  much  it 
may  have  mismanaged  public  affairs.  VVhy,  this  is  enough  to 
prove  the  Utopian  nature  of  your  scheme  I" 


156  DEMOCRACY  VCi'SllS  TARTY  GOVERNMENT. 

Wait  a  moment,  friends.  We  have  so  far  only  shown  j'-ou 
the  front-view  of  our  Commonwealth,  its  economic  side.  Your 
objections  would  be  unanswerable  and  j'our  disgust  in  order, 
if  the  Socialist  Rerjime  implied  tlie  retention  of  our  present 
political  machinery. 

•We  insist  on  2^  political  change  hand  in  hand  with  the  econ- 
omic change.  AVe  Insist  on  new  machinery  for  the  new  mo- 
tive power;  on  new  bottles  for  the  new  wine.  Our  political 
program  is  just  as  vital  a  part  of  our  prospective  Common- 
wealth as  our  economic  program  is.  The  political  machinery 
of  our  country  would  be  most  clumsy  and  unsuitable  to  the 
workings  of  the  New  Order.  It  would  of  necessity  have  to 
be  discardtd  tor  something  more  suitable,  just  as  the  young 
man  has  to  discard  the  clothes  of  his  boyhood  which  he  has 
outgrown. 

This  frank  avowal  will,  undoubtedly,  hurt  more  prejudices. 
than  even  our  economic  ideas  did. 

'*  What!  do  you.  Socialists,  dare  to  think  of  laying  your  im- 
pious hands  on  this  glorious  Constitution  of  ours?  What  a 
sacrilege! " 

Softly!     Listen  to  the  following: 

'*  'J'he  idea  that  some  men  now  iiold.  that  this  Constitution 
is  the  one  perfect  piece  of  political  machinery  that  the  world 
has  ever  seen,  is  a  weak  growth  of  later  3-ears.  The  men  of 
1787  knew  better.  No  one  of  them  thought  it  the  best  form  of 
govermnent  that  could  be  devised.  Tt  was  the  only  form  on 
whicli  they  could  then  agi-ee.  They  began  an  experiment — 
we  have  its  results.  Is  it  possible,  that  from  those  I'csults  we 
can  learn  nothing?  And  ai-e  we  forever  to  use  the  machinery 
of  a  past  age.  throwing  away  all  the  teachings  of  later  years?  " 

lie  who  wrote  those  sentences  is  no  Socialist.  He  is  an 
America!  to  tlie  manor  born,  and  a  matter-of-fact  lawyer. 
His  name  is  All)ert  Stickney,  author  of  ••  A  True  Republic,'' 
published  by  the  Harpers.  His  4th  and  Gth  Chapters  ought 
to  be  read  by  every  inquirer  as  an  introduction  to  the  politi- 
cal ideas  of  Socialists.  The  fact  of  Sticknoy  being  a  lawyer 
makes  him  exceedingly  keen  in  exposing  the  defects  in  our 
political    machinery,    while   his   practical   commonsensc,    in 


DEMOCRACY  VevSlCS  PARTY  GOVERNMENT.  157 

VN'liich  lie  shows  liimself  a  typical  American,  renders  biin  one 
of  the  best  advocates  we  coiilil  h;ive  As  Ricardo  pi-epared 
the  way  for  oiir  analysis  of  our  present  economic  relations,  and 
Spencer  tor  constractive  Socialism,  so  Stickney  performs 
that  service  for  us  with  our  countrymen  in  regard  to  the  po- 
Mtical  changes  which  we  contemplate. 

In  the  two  chapters  we  have  called  attention  to  he  discuss- 
es first,  with  a  wealth  ot  illustr;ition,  the  evils  and  abuses  of 
party-rule  as  we  have  it  here.  If  that  were  all,  he  woidd  not 
have  done  anything  extraordinary.  Most  people  admit  these 
evils.  But  most  uien,  also,  think  them  mere  accidents  of  the 
time  and  that  they  are  far  outweighed  by  the  good  results 
wh"ch  party  brings.  Stickney's  merit  consists  in  showing, 
that  parties — by  which  term  must  always  be  understood  perma- 
neut  parties — have  no  good  results  at  all,  and  that  it  is  our 
frame  of  governmpnt  ivhich  is  responsible  for  those  evi/s. 

He  says  very  pointedly  : 

'•  When  we  said  (as  we  did  in  effect  in  our  Constitution.)  all 
public  servants  shall  depend  for  kee])ing  their  offices,  not  on 
whether  they  do  their  work  well  or  ill.  but  on  carrying  the  next 
election,  then,  instead  of  giving  them  each  a  separate  interest 
to  do  his  own  work  well,  we  gave  tliem  all  on(^  common  in- 
terest to  carry  the  nexc  election.  We  made  it  certain,  that  they 
would  combine  and  form  parties,  for  the  purpose  of  carrying 
elections. 

'•  But  there  was  another  point.  The  knowledge  which  all 
men  had,  that  at  the  end  of  a  fixed  time  there  would  be  a 
large  number  of  vacancies,  made  it  certain,  that  other  men 
wiio  were  not  in  office  would  combine  for  the  purpose  of  get- 
ti!ig  out  the  men  who  were  in  office,  and  getting  in  them- 
selves. The  term-system  was  certain,  then,  to  create  two 
great  parties  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  elections.  The  men 
who  were  in  formed  a  party  to  keep  office.  The  men  who  were 
out  formed  a  party  to  get  office. 

••Whether  they  wished  it  or  not,  our  public  servants  were 
driven  by  this  point  in  our  system  of  government  to  make 
this  work  of  carrying  elections  tlieir  regular  profession;  In 
that   profession   they   gained  g;^'eat  skill.     In  that  work  they 


J  58  DEMOCRACY  VCTSUS  PARTY  GOVERNMENT. 

were  pure  to  liave  more  skill  tliim  the  ordinary  citizens  wliO 
gave  tlieii-  time  and  thought  to  other  things.  The  profession- 
al rr  list  alvva3's  beat  th*e  amateur.  *  *  *  'J  he  natural  and  cer- 
tain result  was  that  party  leaders,  for  part}^  purposes,  con- 
trolled t:u'  elections  of  public  servants,  and  the  action  of  pub- 
lic servants  after  they  were  elected." 

lint  enough  of  quotation.  Stickney  comes  to  the  conchision 
that  the  ^e/;yi-systeni  will  have  to  be  abolished;  but  the  term 
system  is  llie  very  corner-stone  of  om-  ••Constitution." 

That  is  eertuinly  a  V(  i  y  vigorous  way  of  questioning  that 
instrument — especially  for  an  American  lawyer. 

We  shall  have  to  be  broader  in  our  criticism  than  Stickney 
(though  wo  can  hardly  be  said  to  be  more  radical,)  for  the 
objective  points  at  which  lie  and  we  aim  are  rather  different. 
lie  wants  a  nmchinery  which  shall  insure  good  work  in  the 
affairs  with  which  government  is  now  charged.  We  want  a 
machineiy  lit  to  transact  all  the  affairs  (>f  the  Nation. 

Tlie  New  Order  cannot  use  a  machinery  which  allows  the  reigu" 
ing  X)art>j.to  be  master  of  the  situat  on. 

Now  the  successful  par^//  appoints  the  people's  rulers,  and 
all  public  affairs  are  conducted  with  m,  view  to  party  interests. 

For  as  Stickney  remarks  : 

'•The  people  on  the  day  of  election  have  at  most  t!ie 
choice  between  two  men  or  sets  of  men;  and  with  the  point 
who  these  two  sets  of  men  are  to  be  the  people  at  large 
have  little  or  nothing  to  do.  It  may  be  said,  that  tlie 
people  can  have  something  to  do  with  the  selection  of  the 
candidates  However  that  may  be,  it  is  the  fact,  that  they  do 
not,  and  we  are  here  considering  the  way  onrsystemrcally  worLs.''* 

No  one  will  deny  that  all  our  elective  olffcers,  from  head  to 
foot,  are  elected,  not  by  the  peoi)le,  but  by  the  caucus  of  the 
party  which  happens  to  be  successful.  And  the  caucus  or  con- 
vention is  simply  an  irresponsible  gathering  of  men  whom  sel- 
fish interests  draw  and  bind  together.  Listen  to  the  "N.  Y. 
Tribune,  "  now  a  good  party-organ  : 

••  The  Uepnblican  vote  1. 1  this  city  (Xew  York)  two  years 
ago  was  81,730.     It  is  the  simple  truth  to  say   that   not   more 


DEMOCRACY  VeVSUS  PARTY  GOVERNMENT.  159 

than  fifty  men  had  anythhig  to  do  with  the  actual  choioo  ot 
the  delegates  who  went  to  Saratoga  (18S2)  with  a  pretence 
of  representnig  the  great  body  of  vot ts." 

Next,  official  action  has  ever  since  Thomas  Jefferson  found- 
ed the  first  opposiiion  party,  been  directed  to  the  service  of 
party  interests  instead  of  the  people's  interests.  Our  oliicials 
are  and  must  be  pliant  men ;  if  not,  they  are  driveii  from  pub* 
lie  life;  these  are  matters  of  notoriety.  Even  sucli  an  honest 
man  as  Lincoln  had  to  make  scandalous  appointments.  His 
Secretary  of  the  Interior  declared,  that,  if  he  dared,  he  could 
run  his  department  with  half  his  force  of  clerks  and  for  half 
its  cost.  Such  another  would-be-honest  president  as  Hayes 
had  to  pay  for  electoral  votes  with  the  people's  oflices. 

Our  institutions,  instead  of  subserviiig  public  interests,  are 
political /oriresses.  ''Think  what  is  at  stake  this  fall — a  total 
of  two  hundred  and  thirty  places  in  the  county  of  Oneida  !'"'  ex- 
claimed a  Utica  paper  during  a  late  election.  And  yet  people 
who  superciliously  call  Socialism  a  Utopia  imagine  that  an  act 
of  Congress  can  give  us  civil  service  reform !  Do  they  really 
believe  that  figs  will  grow  on  thistles? 

No,  attend  for  once  to  the  essentials:  destroy  these  parties 
which  at  present  are  the  people's  masters ;  which,  as  Srickney 
so  abundantly  proves,  in  a  normal  State  are  unmitigated  evils 
and  these  trifles  are  certain  to  right  themselves.  But  please 
distinguish  between  combinations  of  men  for  the  purpose  of 
carrying  measures — which  always  will  exist — and  our  perma- 
nent parties,  standing  parties  as  they  may  be  called.  In  our 
party  contests  men  do  not  battle  for  measures,  they  fight  for 
candidates.  ''  Our  parties  do  not  elect  men  to  put  into  action 
certain  principles;  they  use  principles  as  battle-cries  to  elect 
certain  men."  Take  a  glance./,  i.  through  the  socalled  ••  po- 
litical records"  of  Harper's  Magazine.  We  find  from  first  to 
last,  nothing,  absolutely  nothing,  but  the  names  of  men  and 
the  oflices  for  which  they,  respectively,  have  been  nominated 
or  elected.  "  Pohtics,"  then,  from  being  the  Science  of  Gov- 
ernment has  become— Cooperative  Office-seeking  ! 

It  was  wise  to  form  a  party  as  a  necessary  oi-gan  of  j.-sist- 
ance  to  negro-slavery.    But  when  that  object  was  gained,  ther 


IGO  DEMOCRACY  VevSUS  PARTY  GOVERNMENT. 

the  need  of  party  was  gone;  from  that  moment  the  liepnbli- 
can  party  became  nothing  bnt  a  faction,  stuffed  full  with 
dolhirs. 

T/i(i  Xcw  Order  cannot  use  a  machinery  which  renders  our  leg- 
islators the  people's  masters  and  allows  them  to  conduct  public 
aifaif!!  with  a  view  to  private  and  class  interests. 

Our  history  furnishes  some  signal  instances  ia  point.  The 
people  have  quite  frequently  demanded  the  resignation  of  their 
rppresentatives;  State  legislatures  have  demaiid(>d  it  of  their 
senators — instances  tln^refore  where  there  could  be  no  doubt 
of  the  identity  of  the  constituency — and  what  has  been  the 
answei '? 

"  You  have  no  business  at  all  to  demand  my  resignation.  It 
is  absolute  piesumption  in  j-ou  to  do  so.'' 

A  perfectly  correct  answer  according  to  our  constitution. 
They  might  with  perfect  propriety,  constitutionally  speaking, 
have  added  ;  "You  call  yourselves  Sovereigns,  and  verily  think 
yourselves  such.  Deluded  Nobodies  that  j''ou  are  I  You  were 
Sovereigns  the  moment  you  elected  me,  but  in  doing  so,  you 
^bdiciited  in  favor  of  me.  Please  wait  <t.ill  my  term  is  out. 
nil  then  I  am  the  Sovereign.  Then  j-'ou  can  once  more  call 
yourselves  "  Sovereigns"  for  a  moment  in  order  to  elect  some 
other  Master  over  you." 

Is  not  that  literally  true? — And  yet  our  Government  is  called 
a  Democracy  ! 

We,  with  Stickney,  propose  to  put  an  end  to  this  «6n)»-sys- 
tem,  but  we  go  fiuther  and  say  that  the  whole  system  of  rep^ 
resentation  is  unlit  for  a  higher  civillzalion. 

Is  not  Carlyle  perfectly  right  when  he  sneers  at  that  kind  of 
*'  liberty  "  which  consists  in  having,  as  a  voter  has  in  our  coun- 
try, a  fort)'- thousandth  part  of  a  Talker  in  our  '•  National  Pa- 
laver?" And  even  that  Talker,  tliough  ho,  is  called  my  repre- 
sentative, may  not,  to  that  inllnitesimal  fraction  represent  rue. 
That  is  a  nice  sort  of  "  representative,"  against  wliose  election 
1  voted  and  i)erh:ins  worked.  No  niatler!  by  voting  ar  all  [ 
express  my  willingness  to  subit.it  to  a  possible  or  i)rol)able  nii- 
jority  against   me.     But   1  should  haM3  had  to  submit,  if  1  had 


DEMOCRACY  VerSUS  PARTY    GOVERNIMEXT.  161 

vot.  voted  at  all;  so  whether  I  vote  against  him  or  not  at  all^ 
'hat  man  is  still  my  "'representative I  " 

Very  many  schemes  for  doing  away  with  this  monstrous  fea- 
ture have  been  propounded,  preeminently  that  of  the  English- 
man Ilare,  which  is  almost  perfect  in  its  way.  but  which  is  ab- 
sokitely  impracticable,  as  long  as  we  have  standing  parties. 

All  these  schemes,  moreover,  are  in  themselves  failures,  be- 
cause they  aim  at  giving  tlieoretical  improvement  to  that  which 
is  fallacious  in  itself,  for  that  is  what  representation  is. 

How  can  I  say  that  what  my  representative  will  tomorrow 
that  I  also  will  ? 

'*  Nice  sovereigns !  "  Rousseau  said,  "  whose  only  function 
in  government  is  to  obey." 

The  simple  and  plain  fact  is  that  our  boast  of  *'  self-govern- 
ment "  is  mei'e  cant ;  the  '*  representative  "  or  '•''  parliamentary  " 
government  was  not  intended  to  represent  the  People,  but  is  a 
rude  device  for  securing  power  to  our  leading  classes',  that  is 
why  we  find  so  man}-  lawyers — the  retainers  of  our  Plutocracy 
— in  the  legislative  seats.  Hence  it  is  an  essentially  tempora- 
ry exj)edient. 

The  New  Order  icill  have  no  use  for  Presidents  and  Governors 
tcho^for  their  term  of  office^  are  masters  of  the  situation. 

Our  President  is,  even  when  he  rebels  against  his  party, 
excedingly  powerful  for  mischief,  at  all  events.  But  when 
loyal  to  his  paity  lie  is  a  veritable  king^  a  dress-coat-king,  'tis 
true,  but  more  powerful  than  any  crowned  king. 

lie  cannot  declare  war,  but  he  can  create  one.  He  cannot 
make  treaties,  but  he  can  force  them  on  the  nation.  He  can 
nullify  the  laws  by  his  pardon.  His  will  and  temper  is  the 
onlv  rule  for  his  veto  power.  He  acts,  Congress  talks.  He 
hjjs  a  thousand  means  at  his  command  to  show  favors  to  Con- 
gressmen. He  is  every  year  for  many  months  the  uncontrolled 
monarch  of  the  country.  In  war  he  is  almost  absf  lute.  And 
yet  our  country  is  called  a  Eepublic  I — But  then,  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  it  was  only  an  accident  that  made  us  a  republic. 

The  Xew  Order  will  know  nothing  of  such  an  ofiice. 

It  will  know  nothing  of  it  because,  as  Goldvviu  Smith  said 


162  DEMOCRACY  VerSUS  PARTY  GOVERNMENT. 

in  Jill  excellent  article   in   the  Atlantic  Monthly   for  January 
1879,  entitled :    '•  Is  Universal  Suffrage  a  Failure? " 

•it  (the  Presidency)  is  at  once  the  grand  prize  and  the 
most  powerful  stimulant  of  faction." 

Tlie  Presidency  is  truly  under  our  system  "the  grand  prize" 
that  fosters  an  ambition  which  no  citizen  in  a  republic  ought 
to  entertain  and  whicli  has  ruined  the  usefulness  of  so  many 
of  our  best  men. 

The  Presidency  is  the  cliief  '*■  spoil "  and  source  of  other 
spoils.  We  all  remember  the  frankness  of  Flanagan  in  a  late 
National  Convention  :  ''•What  are  we  herefor  if  not  the  spoils?  " 
When  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  abollslios  tliis  chief 
spoil  with  all  other  spoils,  and  thus  stops  their  pay,  our  stand- 
ing parties  will  dissolve  for  want  of  cohesion,  as  standing 
armies  do.  when  their  pay  stops, 

But  what  does  this  discarding  of  these  prominent  features 
of  our  government  mean?  It  means  that  the  only  political  ma 
chlnery  lit  for  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  is  Democracy, 

For  however  hazy  the  meaning  of  that  word  is,  nobody  can 
fairly  object  if  we,  temporarily,  deline  •*  Democracy  "  as  that 
form  of  administration  where  no  one  of  the  publiu  olflcers  is 
at  any  time  the  master  of  the  situation;  where,  conseciuontly, 
none  of  the  public  affairs  can  at  any  time  be  conducted  tcith  a  view 
to  private  or  class  interests. 

The  New  Order  will,  further,  discard  the  system  of  ap- 
pointments/rom  abovcs  which  is  simply  the  principal  means  by 
which  our  ruling  classes  exercise  their  power. 

It  will  throw  overboard  the  doctrine  of  the  three  ''coordinate" 
powers;  that  is,  the  doctrine  that  the  functions  of  govermnent 
should  be  distributed  among  three  departments:  the  legisla- 
tive, executive  and  judicial,  wholly  iifdependent  of,  and  yet 
checking  each  other. 

This  doctrine  amounts  to  this,  tliat  laws  shoidd  be  enacted 
in  one  spirit,  interpreted  in  another,  and  executed  in  a  third 
spirit,  which  is  preposterous,  'i'he  theory  of  chef^ks  and  bal- 
ances is  one  born  of  ])assions.  engendered  by  struggle  against 
arbitrary  power;  wof  one  born  of  philosophical  observations. 
This  fact  was  entirely  misconceived  by  Montesquieu— that  em- 


DEMOCRACY  verSUS  PARTY  GOVERNMENT.  163 

bodied  Empiricism — and  scrangely  enough,  also  overlooked  by 
our  practical  forefathers,  as  noticed  by  Prof.  Goidvvin  Smith 
in  tlie  article  above  mentioned. 

The  New  Order  will  have  no  use  whatever  for  a  Senate. 

It  is  useless.  As  Johu  Stuart  Mill  remarks  :  ''  In  times  of 
violent  excitement,  the  only  times,  when  it  might  prodi  c« 
more  good  than  harm,  it  is  destined  to  become  inoperative.*' 
Those  who  object,  that  the  one  chamber  system  has  always 
been  the  forerunner  of  the  usurper,  seem  never  to  have  thought 
of  the  circumstance.. that  the  usurper  has  always  introduced  the 
two-chamber  system.  With  the  ISational  Senate  will  go  the 
doctrine  of  state-sovereignty,  which,  though  decrepit,  is  not 
yet  dead.  The  doctrine  is  a  relic  of  our  infancy,  when  we  were 
small,  undeveloped  scattered  communities  such  as  all  civilized 
nations  have  started  with.  It  is  worthy  of  observation,  that 
dual  sovereignty  has  been  the  historical  development  of  Great 
Britain,  Germany,  Sweden,  Italy,  Spain  and  France,  as  well 
as  our  country. 

The  Cooperative  Commonwealth  will  only  know  of  a  Nation, 
with  a  big,  very  big  N.  Our  present  state-lines  only  M'ork  mis- 
chief. Parts  of  New  Jersey  and  Delaware  belong  as  nmch  to 
Philadelphia  as  any  part  of  Pennsylvania  does,  and  New  Jer- 
sey, llhode  Island  and  Connecticut  are  far  njore  intimately 
connected  with  New  York  city  than  is  Western  New  York. 

''And  when  you.  thus,  have  succeeded  in  doing  away  with 
the  Term  System,  the  Representative  System,  the  Presidency, 
the  three  Coordinate  Powers,  the  Senate.  State  Sovereignty  and 
Appointments  from  above — in  short  with  our  whole  Consti- 
tution, be  good  enough  to  tell  us  what  other  constitution 
it  will  please  your  Cooperative  Commonwealth  to  give  us  '* 

An  inquirer  will  very  naturally,  at  this  stage,  ask  some  such 
question.  It  would  remind  us,  that  we  have  not  yet  made  our 
fundamental  position  in  regard  to  polit'cal  changes  clear. 

Constitutions,  are  not  at  all  things  to  b(  given  or  taken  away  at 
pleasure. 

What  is  a  Constitution? 


1G4  DEMOCRACY  VerSUS  PARTY  GOVERKMENT. 

When  we  speak  of  the  Constitution  of  the  solar  pystem.  we 
mean  by  that  term  the  attraction  of  tlie  sun  which  so  regulates 
the  movements  of  the  pkinets  that  this  movem(;nt  cannot  be 
otherwise  than  what  it  is.  When  we  i:i  the  same  sense— the 
proper  sense — speak  of  the  Constitution  of  a  countrj',  we  do 
not  mean  that  piece  of  paper  whicii  is  called  a  "  Constitution," 
but.  the  organic  power  that  makes  necessary  the  institutions 
which  we  find.  It  is  therefore  a  fundamental  mistake  to  think, 
that  our  country  with  her  written  ''  constitution"  occupies  a 
peculiar  position. 

Every  country  has  and  always  had  a  constitution.  A  king 
with  an  armj^  at  his  back  is  a  large  part  of  a  constitution.  The 
motto  of  Louis  XIV:  '•^Uetat  c''est  moi"'  ('•  1  am  the  State") 
was  as  fully  the  constitution  of  Franco  as  any  constitution  she, 
or  any  country,  ever  had.  Tlie  peculiarity  of  modern  times  con- 
sists simply  in  a  piece  of  paper,  simply  in  the  giving  written  ex- 
pi-ession  to  the  organic  power.  But  if  such  a  written  *•  constitu- 
tion" does  not  correctly  respond  to  this  organic  power — as 
the  '•  constitutions  "  ot  Frnnce  during  the  Kcvohitiondid  not, 
and  as  the  ''  constitution "  of  the  present  German  Empire 
does  not — it  is  not  worth  the  paper  it  is  written  on.  If  it,  on 
the  other  hand,  does  so  respond,  it  is  like  a  swiftly  tlj'ing  buzz- 
saw — dangerous  to  go  too  near  to. 

The  short  history  of  our  own  country,  even,  bears  us  out 
in  this  view.  Our  present  ••constitution"  is  a  very  different  one 
from  wiiat  it  was  in  1850.  Tlie  point  of  change  was  the 
period  when  people  prated  about  "'upholding  the  constitu- 
tion." Whenever  a  "  Constitution  "  needs  being  •'  upheld," 
it  is  going,  or  gone.  During  that  period  was  promulgated 
the  "'DredSeot"  decision,  which,  undoubtedly,  was  a  cor- 
rect'•'•constitutionar' decision.  Yet  it  was  but  an  idle  breath, 
or.  if  it  had  any  effect,  it  was  to  m;ike  our  people,  (so  approv- 
ingly styled  ••  a  law  abiding  peopl.%")  sul)vert  the  very  "•  con- 
stitution," tliat  was  the  sanction  of  the  decision. 
What  was  the  matter? 

The  organic  power   in   the   Nation    was   simply   changing. 
J.Iai  k  I  it  was  the  Abolition  of  Slavery  which  amended  our  "  cou' 


DEMOCRACY  Vet'SUS  PARTY  GOVERNMENT.  165 

ftitiition,''''  emphatically  not  the  amendments  to  the  •"  constiLiv 
tution  "  which  abolished  Slavery. 

Is  this  Socialist  view  of  the  ovi^anic  law  of  acomitry  not  ini 
more  philosophic  thau  the  vulgar  one,  held  by  onr  'states- 
men" or  even  by  such  an  eminent  anthoritv  as  Judge  Story, 
who  reduces  the  wnole  science  of  government  to — a  eulogy 
of  the  •'  Constitution?  " 

It  remains  true,  reader !  No  army  of  lawyers,  nor  of  soldiers, 
can  uphold  a  "'  constitution,"  when  the  centre  of  gravity  of 
Society  has  changed  its  position. 

Socialists,  then.  hav<^  no  thought  whatever  of  ••  laj'ing  im- 
pious hands"  on  this  glorious  paper  "•  constitution"  ot  ours, 
or  of  '"  giving  "  to,  or  imposing  upon,  our  country  a  new  f  ranife 
of  government  of  our  own ;  just  as  little  as  we  fancy,  that  we 
can  change  its  economic  conditions. 

It  is  the  Logic  of  Events  that  will  accompash  both  these 
changes. 

But  mark  the  radical  difference  between  the  economic  and 
the  political  revolution. 

The  economic  relations  of  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth 
will  evolve  out  of  our  present  industrial  conditions,  as  we  at- 
tempted to  show  in  the  preceding  chapters.  But  tiieform  of 
administration  of  that  Commonwealth  will  not  be  an  out- 
growth of  our  present  form  of  government. 

It  is  true,  that  the  political  system  we  now  are  living  under 
is  an  outgrowth  of  our  colonial  system,  but  the  representative, 
parliamentary  system  (theonly  one  with  whichour  country  in 
her  short  liistory  has  been  familiar,  and  which  at  present  pre- 
vails in  a  more  or  less  developed  form  in  all  civilized  countries 
except  Russia)  is  not  an  outgrowth  of  the  feudal  system,  pre- 
vailing during  the  Middle  Ages,  nor  was  the  latter  an  out- 
growth of  the  ancient  forms  of  government. 

For  forms  of  governnj.ent  are  nothing  hnt  forms.  They  are  not 
the  substance  of  society.  They  are  only  coats,  that  may.  or  may 
not,  fit  the  backs  .  Butthey  are  not  the  backs;  economic  con- 
ditions are  the  backs.  Or.  to  use  the  other  appropriate  tigine: 
forms  of  governments  are  nothing  but  machineiy.  but  econo- 
mic conditions  are  the  steam,  without   which   the   machineiy 


ion  DEMOCKACY   Z^CrSMS  TAKTY  GOVERNMENT. 

i.s  useless. 

It  uill  ])e  seen  from  this,  that  those  are  egregiouslymistak'^il 
who  cliuri^e  Sochillsts  with  liavini;  a  "'faith  in  the  sovereii^n 
power  of  political  inachineiy."  We  helieve.  on  the  contrary, 
that  forms  of  ii^overnments,  in  themselves,  amount  to  noth- 
iiig;  that  eivil  li!)>irty.  by  itsf^lf,  is  hanlly  w-^rth  tlie  trouble 
of  agitation,  that  political  freedom  won,  nothing  may  yet  be 
won — bnt  emptiness. 

Wc  believe,  that  economic  and  industrial  relations  are  every- 
thing, wherefore  also  we  devoted  the  tirst  six  chapters  to 
them.  Just  as  the  steam-loom  took  the  ])lace  of  the  hand- 
loom,  and  the  steam-thrasher  of  the  flail,  when  steam  became 
the  motive  power  instead  of  human  muscles,  or  as  the  man 
must  discard  his  boy's  jacket,  so  we  say  the  Cooperative  (Com- 
monwealth will  have  as  it  "'rows  into  existence  to  relegate 
the  whole  machinery  with  which  we  are  now  familiar:  Pres- 
ident and  Representatives  and  coordinate  powers  and  state- 
lines  to  the  lumber-room  of  the  past. 

That  is  what  this  capitalist  regime  did  as  soon  as  it  had  grown 
up  to  manhood.  It  dispensed  as  fast  as  it  could  with  every 
feature  of  the  feudal  system  and  substituted  for  it  the  sj'^stem 
which  allowed  it  to  work  to  the  best  advantage,  to-wit,  the 
representative  system. 

If.  therefore,  we  want  to  form  any  conception  of  the  political 
or  judicial  administration  of  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth, 
we  must  imagine  this  present  ''constitution"  of  ours  wiped 
out.  lirst  of  all.  Our  inquirer  and  those  opponents  of  Social- 
ism who  call  attention  to  the  incompatibility  between  it  and 
our  present  frame  of  government,  are  therefore  perfectly  right : 
The  United  States  would,  in  truth,  become  a  bedlam  at  election 
times. 

Wc  hail  it  as  a  good  sign,  that  an  Amercan,  lawyer  like 
Stickne}'-,  and  with  him  the  whole  new  generation,  is  getting 
into  the  habit  of  questioning  even  ''  the  wisdom  of  our  t'nvo- 
falhers." 

Well,  they  were  wise  in  their  generation.  They  confornxMl 
to  the  organic  power  of  their  day.  Let  ns  and  those  who  will 
come  immediately  after  us  be  as  wise  in  our  and  their  gtnu'r:.- 


DEMOCRACY  VerSUS  PARTY  GOVERNMENT.  1G7 

tions!  At  any  rate  we  cannot  help  ourselves.  Democracy  {?, 
^'hat  we  are  inevitably  tending  to.  which  will  crnsh  the  JJe- 
pnblican  and  "  Democratic''  parties  as  easily  as  if  they  wer^ 
eg-o^-shells. 

And  do  not  have  any  fear,  that  we  shall  then  or  ever  be  with- 
out a  constitution.  No.  not  for  one  moment.  The  new  con- 
stitution will  form  itself  as  naturally  as  the  ice  forms  upon  the 
water,  when  the  freezing  point  is  reached. 

But  we  must  now  know,  not  alone  wliat  "Democracy"  is  not, 
but  what  it  is,  and  not  so  much,  what  the  word  means,  but 
what  the  thing  really  is  wliich  we  have  in  mind  when  we  pro- 
nounce the  word. 

The  word  comes  from  the  Greek  word  *' demos,'*  which 
means  "  the  people.''  That  gives  us,  however,  just  as  poor 
an  idea  of  what  •'  Democracy.*'  is,  as  the  information  that  "  Ev- 
olution "  is  derived  from  a  word  that  means  '•  to  roll  out ''  en- 
ables us  to  know  what  evolution  is.  That  it  is  which  has  giv- 
en us  the  definition  found  in  dictionaries,  that  ••  Democracy" 
is  '•government  by  majorities,"  government  by  "  counting  of 
heads,"  as  Carlyle  has  it.  But  government  of  majorities  may  be 
just  as  '•  undemocratic  "  as  the  rule  of  aiiy  other  class. 

No,  let  us  turn  to  the  *'■  back"  which  the  "'  coat  "  is  to  fit. 

We  saw  that  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  will  incorpor- 
ate the  whole  population  into  Society.  It  will  destroy  classes  en- 
tirely.    And  with  classes  will  go  all  ''  rule." 

The  '"wliole  people"  does  not  want,  or  need,  any  ''govern- 
ment'' at  all.  It  simply  wants  administration — good  adminis- 
tration. 

That  will  be  had  by  putting  every  one  in  the  position  fo*" 
which  he  is  best  fitted,  and  making  everj-one  aware  of  the  fact 

That  is  what  Democracy  means;  it  means 

Administration  by  the  Competent. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ADMINISTRATION   OF   AFFAIRS 
IN  THE  COOPERATIVE  COMMONWEALTH. 


"  Our  self-government  is  amateur-administration,  gcvern- 
ment  by  amateurs.'' — Grveg. 

*•'•  The  feeling  of  Equality  is  growing  fast.  It  makes  men 
chafe  more  and  more  under  tlu;  personal  i)0\ver  of  individuals, 
on  a  political  level  with  themselves.  But  tliey  will  submit 
willingly  to  power  that  coukvs  from  above  and  is  impersonal." 
— Dr.  Woolsey,  Communism  and  Socialism. 

"•  In  your  trades-societies  you  have  acquired  the  instinct  of 
trusting  j'our  leaders,  of  acting  with  decision,  concentration 
and  responsinility.  *  *  *  The  ma-s  supplying  breadth  and  en- 
ergy of  principle;  your  agents  giving  it  concentiation  and 
unity.  Let  your  watchword  be :  *  Confidence  in  tried  leaders! 
Loyal  cooperation  each  with  ail! '" — Frederic  Harrison.,  Order 
and  Progress. 

We  have  now  two  definitions  of  Dcmoc.rary.,  *  one  negative, 
the  other  allirmative,  which  together  complete  our  conception 
of  a  ^^oa'aZis^  Administration :  thai  of  competent  and   qualified 


♦  It  is  annoying,  that  when  we  in  our  country  use  the  word 
*''  Democracy,"  we  have  to  apologize  for  its  del)as(Mn(Mit  fiou) 
being  a])pr()priated  by  that  i)arty  of  negations  calling  itself 
•"the  Demoeraiic  Tarty,"  whose  only  adifmative  principle  is 
the  decrepit  doctrine  of  '''  State-Rights." 


ADMINISTEATION.  1()0 

functionaries,  whose  interest  is  entirely  coincident  with  their  (hity. 

But  ri<^ht  hore  we  shall  be  challenged.  It  may  be  said  that 
this  may  be  a  good  conception  of  a  good  administration,  bUf 
that  it  is  not  ''  Democracy."  Some  will  quote  Frederic  ll^r- 
rison  to  the  effect  that  -'Democracy  exists  Avhen  each  man 
holds  himself  as  wise  a  ruler  as  his  fellow;  where  Govern- 
ment is  a  scramble  open  to  every  glib  talker."'  Others  thin  v 
with  Carlyle  that  in  a  Democracy  the  people  solve  every  prob- 
lem by  saying  'Met  us  take  a  vote'' and  counting  the  heads. 
Others,  again,  will  point  to  the  article  bj-^  Jesse  Jones  on  '*•  the 
Labor  Question  "  which  we  in  a  former  chapter  mentioned  with 
approval,  and  remind  us  that  Jones  there  takes  for  granted,  that 
our  future  economic  system  will  conform  to  our  primitive  politi- 
cal system;  that  is,  assumes  that  all  affairs  willbe  conducted  on 
the ''town-meeting "-plan.  "  What  is  that."  they  will  ask, 
"but  the  Abomination  of  Frederic  Harrison  and  Carlyle?" 

This  is  a  perfectly  fair  objection,  to  which  we  shall  give  an 
answer  that  cannot  possibly  be  misunderstood.  If  the  '*  town- 
meeting-plan,"  if  that  which  Frederic  Harrison.  Carlyle  and 
Jesse  Jones  agree  in  calling  '•  Democracy  "  is  properly  named 
by  thera,  then  we  inust  find  another  name  for  the  Administration 
of  Public  Affairs  under  the  New  Social  Order.  The  object  of 
Chapter  VII  was  not  so  much  to  show  that  our  present 
form  of  government,  our  written  ''  constitution."  is  un-demo- 
cratic.  as  to  point  out  that  it  is  utterly  unfit  to  furnish  a  good 
administration  of  the  people's  affairs.  The  object  of  this  Chap- 
ter, in  the  first  place,  is  to  suggest  the  machinery  that  we  have 
reason  to  assume  will  be  adopted  to  carry  on  all  the  affairs  of 
the  Coming  Commonwealth.  This  is  the  important  matter 
for  consideration,  which  we  shall  not  allow  to  degenerate  into 
a  dispute  about  words.  Yet,  we  shall  also  claim,  that  the  Ad- 
ministration of  the  Future  has  an  eminent,  pei'haps  an  exclu- 
sive, right  to  the  name  of  "  Democracy ;  "  but  that  is  a  subor- 
dinate matter. 

The  " town-rneeting "  plan,  the  plan  of  "counting  heads," 
will  evidently  be  wholly  unsuitable  in  the  Cooperative  Com- 
monwealth. If  our  public  affairs  now  have  altogether  out- 
grown that  primitive  plan,  how  much  more  when  '•  public  af- 


170  ADMINISTRATION 

fairs"  will  mean  all  affairs,  with  indusLrial  affairs  in  tlie  fore- 
ground? No  argument  sliOLild  really  be  needed  to  convince 
aayboily.  that  a  Xation  that  conducted  all  its  affairs  as  Jones 
will  have  them  conducted  would  very  soon  become  bankrupt. 

But  this,  that  such  an  Administration  as  we  have  indicated 
in  our  delinition  will  be  the  yavy  one  needed  is  not  all:  it  will 
bo  the  very  one  which  the  future  Constitution — real  constitu- 
tion— of  Society  will  necessitate- 

We  have  already  emphasized  as  much  as  we  could,  that  the 
great  achievement  of  tlie  Coming  Commonwealth  will  be  to 
incorporate  the  whole  population  into  Society', to  shift  the 
<'enire  of  Gravity  of  Society,  to  make  the  Working- Glasses 
the  organic  power  of  Society.  Th«  great  body  of  our  people 
are  manifestly  dictated  to  as  much  as  any  other  people. 
Though  legally,  that  is,  theoretically,  tin;  people  here  are 
governors,  practically  they  have  no  more  power  over  leg- 
islation than  they  have  over  Crises,  over  Production  or  Com- 
merce. And  the  reason  is,  simplj^,  that  the  Working-Classes 
have  not  yet  got  the  real  social  power,  for  whatever  is  the 
strongest  power  in  Society  is  the  governing  authority. 

Well,  all  the  evidence  we  now  possess  tends  to  prove  that 
the  Working-Classes,  when  they  once  become  the  organic  fonre 
in  the  State,  will  favor  such  an  Administration  as  we  have  de- 
lined. 

Study  the  Trades-Unions  here  and  those  of  England  and  learn 
from  them,  how  workingmen  go  about  their  own  affairs.  Have 
tiic  members  of  these  Unions  ever  shown  any  anarchic  spirit? 
Amongst  the  many  things  that  have  been  said  of  and  against 
them,  have  they  ever  been  charged  with  evincing  an}-  instinct- 
ive thii'st  for  each  man  iiavinghisown  wa}-?— which  is  the  spirit 
of  Anarcliy.  Is  it  not.  contrariwise,  ti  ue,  that  they  always 
liave  been  willing  to  acknowledge  that  some  were  wiser  than 
themselves,  and  that,  when  they  thought  the}'  had  hit  ui)on 
th(;  light  leaders,  they  have  been  willing  to  thrust  their  whole 
collective  power  into  their  hands'?  In  short,  is  it  not  true. 
Wiiat  Fn^deric  Harrison  says  of  them,  that  ''they  trust  their 
leaders  and  act  with  decision,  concentration  and  responsibil- 
ity.^' 


OF   AFFAIRS.  171 

Now,  these  "Working-Clrisses,  who  represent  so  to  speak, 
the  whole  social  body,  of  which  the  other  classes  only  are 
special  organs,  will  decide  what  the  Administration  of  the  Fu- 
ture is  to  he. 

VVe  avoid,  purposely,  saying  that  they  will  liavetliepoZiYicaZ 
power,  for  ••political"  power,  ••Politics"  ••Politicians"  will 
be  unknown  terms  under  the  New  Order. 

Political  power  is,  fundamentally,  nothing  hut  the  organized 
power  of  classes,  or  men,  or  sets  of  men,  to  '•  govern  "  others ; 
that  is,  to  dictate  to  them  what  they  shall  do  and  what  they 
muse  not  CIO.  In  our  Commonwealth,  where  there  will  be  no 
•'  classes  "  at  all,  there  will  be  no  set,  of  men  who  can  by  ••  sov- 
eign  authority"  dictate  to  the  re-t  of  the  Nation,  but  every 
citizen  will  actually  perform  his  appropriate  share  of  the  ad- 
ministration. 

Again,  the  terms  '•'  State  "  and  '•  Society  "  are  now  apart  in 
speech^  because  they  are  in  fact  apart.  But  under  the  New  so- 
cial System  they  will,  as  we  have  seen,  come  to  cover  each 
other,  become  synonymous.  Between  the  economic  and  So- 
cial organization,  and  the  ••political"  organization  of  the  Fu- 
ture State  there  will  not  be  a  particle  of  distinction. 

Before  we  proceed  to  outline  the  Administration  of  the  Fu- 
ture we  wish  to  repeat  the  warning  that  we  gave,  when  the 
economic  features  of  the  New  Order  were  under  discussion  : 
Socialists  lay  no  claim  to  be'''  architects,"  hence  do  not  insist  upon 
details  from  us!  Speculations  here  in  detail  would  be  liable  to 
be  far  more  Utopian  than  those  in  economic  matters,  since,  as 
we  have  seen,  the  administrative  featuresof  a  given  society  are 
bu  the  ulterior  results  of  its  economic  relations.  We  can, 
ho\i  ;ver,  pretty  safel}^  predict  that  the  following  features  will 
take  the  place  of  those  we  have  discarded. 

Appointments  will  he  made  from  below.  This  is  the  second  re- 
spect in  which  our  Post  Office  Department  is  not  a  socialist 
ir.stitution — the  other  respect,  as  will  be  remembered,  was  the 
discrepancy  in  salaries.  At  present  the  Postmaster-General 
or  President  appoints  the  postmasters,  and  they  again  their 
subordinates  and  the  letter-carriers.     Under  Socialism  it  will 


172  ADMINISTRATION 

certainly  be  the  reverse.  There  the  letter-carriers  will  elect 
their  iininediate  superiors;  tliese,  we  will  say.  the  postmasters 
and  these  in  their  turn  the  Postmaster  General.  Why  should 
it  not  be  so? 

Are  not  the  lett«M--carriers  just  as  competent  to  elect  their 
superintendents  as  the  Chief  in  Washington  is  to  appoint  the 
postmaster  of  Boston?  The  qiialilications  of  an  elector  are 
evidently  these  :  a  knowledge  of  the  capacity  of  the  candidate 
for  a  given  office  and  a  knowledge  of  what  the  duties  of  that 
office  are  (quite  a  different  thing  from  a  knowledge  of  how  to 
perform  those  chities.)  Wiio  possesses  these  qualilications  in 
a  greater  degreo  tlian  those  who  are  to  be  his  immediate  sub- 
ordinates, and  who.  perhaps,  have  worked  with  the  candidate 
throughout  a  series  of  years? 

Understand!  by  appointment  from  below,  we  do  not  mean, 
that/,  i.  the  whole  people  of  a  city  shall  elect  their  postmaster. 
Such  a  principle  is  altogether  too  much  in  vogue  now.  We 
maintain  exactly  the  revei-se  of  it :  tluit  a  man  is  not  qualified 
to  vote  for  a  candidate  whose  qualifications  he  is  ignorant  of, 
for  an  office  the  duties  of  which  he  is  not  acquainted  with. 
It  will  be  admitted  that  it  is  quite  a  different  proposition,  that 
the  workers  in  a  factory  should  elect  their  Foreman,  teachers 
their  Superintendent  &c.  This  is  the  only  methotl  by  which 
liannonious  loyal  cooperation  of  subordinates  with  superiors 
can  be  secured.  No  one  ought  to  be  a  superior  who  has  not 
the  good  will  of  those  he  has  to  direct. 

Understand,  also,  that  Appointment  from  below  does  not 
necessarily  imply  liemoval  from  below. 

Think  but  a  moment  over  it,  and  notice  the  important  and 
beneficent  results  that  will  fiow  from  such  a  system. 

We  said  that  every  citiz(ui  would  be  actually  a  part  of  the 
Administration.  This  that  he  will  have  a  voice  in  the  election 
of  his  immediate  superior,  will  be  one  way,  and  perhaps  the 
most  important  way,  of  being  such  part.  That  kind  of  Suf- 
fr>jfje  ivill  be  worth  something.  We  have  now  cut  what  we  call 
''' ])olitical  power"  into  such  little  bits,  that  a  single  man's 
share  of  it  is  hardly  thought  worth  having  iit  all.  But  hi.^ 
vote   will  count  for  something  in  a  shop  when  a  foreman  is  to 


or  AFFAIES.  173 

be  elected ;  will  indeed,  confer  such  a  dignity  on  him.  that  he 
will  be  a  different  man  from  the  servile  ••  hand"  of  our  pres- 
ent Irresponsible  autocrats. 

Again,  this  system  will  furnish  one  of  the  securities  for  good 
administration.  It  is  not  likely  that  under  it  there  will  any 
Ic  iiger  be  any  "  government  by  amateurs."  Then  the  greatest 
ability  will  in  every  sphere  of  activity  in  all  likelihood  gravi- 
tate towards  all  positions  of  influence,  (ju.-,t  as  we  find  it  to  be 
the  case  in  the  English  Trades-societies  according  to  the  most 
competent  authority)  and  the  subordinates  will  he  aware  of  the 
fact. 

Instead  of  any  term  of  office,  long  or  short,  we  shall  have  a 
temire  daring  Good  Behavior. 

The  directors  of  affairs  will  hold  their  offices  as  long  as  the 
people's  interests  are  best  served  by  having  them  hold  them, 
hut  not  one  moment  heyond.  They  all,  from  Foreman  up  to  the 
Chiefs,  will  have  to  do  good  work,  and  will  not  stay  in  their 
office  one  week,  nny,  not  one  day,  if  they  fail  in  their  duties, 
i\y.  if  they  fail  to  give  satisfaction.  Every  such  officer  will  be 
held  responsible,  not  for  good  intentions,  but  for  accomplished 
results.  Of  all  causes  for  removal  the  best  of  all  will  be  one, 
Uiirecognized  now,  the  misdemeanor  of  Failure.  •'  Good  Be- 
havior "  will  mean  first  of  all :  Efficiency.  And  as  a  very  im- 
portant part  of  the  work  of  every  officer  will  consist  in  over- 
seeing others,  lie  will  be  held  i-esponsible,  if  the  work  done 
by  those  under  him  is  not  done  well,  lie  will  be  driven  to  en- 
force the  utmost  efficiency  from  every  one  of  his  subordinates. 
His  holding  his  place  will  depend  on  what  they  do,  as  much 
as  on  what  he  himself  does. 

I'hls  personal  respousiblity  and  instant  dismissal  for  failure 
will  permeate  the  wlioh  service  from  lop  to  bottom.  This  is 
^^hat  the  Coojjerative  Commonwealth  will  need,  for  as  Stick- 
ney  well  remarks  :  ^'  If  his  future  advancement  (and  we  add : 
the  tenure  of  a  functionary)  depends  on  a  king  he  will  serve 
the  king;  if  oh  party  he  will  serve  party;  if  only  on  doing 
his  work  well,  he  will  do  his  work  well.  It  is  no  miracle.  It 
is  nothing  but  a  law  of  human   nature."     Which   remark   we 


174  ADMINISTRATION 

coiuraeiid  to  our  Utopian  Civil-Service-Reformers  who  wish, 
and  no  doubt  sincerel}'^,  to  lefoiiu  tb(;  service  in  the  sauK*  di- 
rection as  Socialists  do,  but  want  to  retain  Party-^^overnnieiit. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  when  a  good  man  has  got  into  the 
proper  place  and  periornis  liis  work  well,  be  will  go  on  and 
do  it  as  long  as  be  has  a  mind  to  stay.  AVe  have  tried  that 
plan  to  some  extent  and  we  have  bad  some  good  results  from 
it.  Everybody  will  aiUnit,  that  our  judicial  tenure  of  ollice 
has  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the  fact,  that  our  judiciary  has 
been  so  pure  and  uncorrupted  as  has  been  the  case — while  the 
greatest  blot  on  its  fair  fame  (the  Electoral  Commission  busi- 
ness of  1877)  can  be  just  as  directly  traced  to  the  evil  inllu- 
ences  of  Party.  The  principal  objection  we  have  to  our  Judic- 
ial Tenure  is  that  '•  Good  Behavior"'  means  nothing  but  •*  re- 
maining raspecUihle.''''  In  a  Socialist  Administration  a  judge 
would  not  remain  one  day  in  office  when  he  was  notoriously 
untit  to  i)erform  bis  duties,  as  was  for  years  the  case  with 
members  of  our  National  Supreme  Couit.  Again,  whatever 
opinion  is  entertained  of  the  expediency  of  West  Point  and 
our  army,  Socialists  will  cheerfully  admit  the  high  tnoraltone 
of  tbe  Array  Service — until  lately,  at  any  rate— compared  with 
our  Civil  Service, which  is  directly  traceable  to  the  secure  ten- 
ur<^  of  office  of  the  former. 

The  Directors  of  Affairs,  fin-thermore.  will  be  trusted  with 
all  the  power  necessary  to  perform  their  work  well.  They 
will  not  be  hampered  b}''  any  petty  technicalities.  The  peo- 
ple will  abstain  from  meddling  with  details,  as  long  as  the  re- 
sidts  are  satisfactory.  Thai  is  the  sensible  practical  method 
which  workingmen  always  adopt  whenever  they  associate  to 
accom|)lish  anything,  as  also  is  cxcniplifnd  in  the  English 
Trades-Unions.  Workingmen  know,  that  tbe  direction  of  af- 
fairs ought  to  be  a  function  of  the  competent,  as  much  as  the 
planning  of  a  suspension  bridge  i.^,  and  not  a  play  for  num- 
bers. They  always,  as  Frederic  Harrison  puts  it,  ''put  con- 
lidence  in  tried  leaders." 

Some  one  may  here  object  that  when  in  that  w^ay  under  So- 
cialism all  the  high  talent  of  the  country  is  concentrated   in 


OF   AFFAIRS.  175 

the  Adiniiiistration,  it  will  be  exactly  the  '•  Bureancrac}' "  we 
fincl  in  Prussia,  Kussia  and  China. 

It  would  indeed  be  a  bureaucracy,  if  it  were  proposed  that 
our  civil  ofhcers  under  our  present  system  should  have  a  life- 
tenure  of  their  places.  Bnt  it  will  be  quite  a  dljEferent  thing, 
wdien,  as  in  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  every  citizen  has 
a  life-tenure  so?7ieio7iere.  and  wdien  ''good  behavior"  means 
something  else  than  not  to  commit  an  infamous  crime.  Is  a 
physician  a  bureaucrat?  When  a  patient  has  found  a  good 
physician  he  keeps  him  and  follows  his  directions,  and  yet  we 
should  say.  that  that  patient's  power  over  this  physician  is 
not  nugatory,  though  he  does  not  direct  what  medicines  shall 
be  administered. 

Such  a  tenure  during  '•'  Good  Beliavior,"  as  we  have  defined 
it,  will  be  another  security  for  good  administration.  When- 
ever the  directors  of  affairs  have  such  power  us  is  their  due, 
when  they  are  secure  in  their  positions  and  permitted  to  do 
the  best  they  know  how,  we  can  be  sure  t()  find  merit  in  the 
commanding  positions,  for  it  will  ever  remain  true  that  the 
direction  of  affairs  has  wonderful  charms  for  all  men  who  have 
any  gifts,  fitting  them  for  it. 

Instead  of  representation  ice  shall  have^  what  is  technically 
called,  the  referendum. 

I'y  the  '•  referendum  "  is  meant  the  submitting  all  bills  of  a 
general  nature  to  the  people  they  are  intended  to  affect,  before 
they  have  the  validity  of  laws,  as  already  exemplified  for  some 
years  past  by  Switzerland  to  some  extent,  both  in  national  and 
cantonal  affairs. 

We  claim,  that  this  feature  represents  exactly  the  function 
which  the  people  are  fitted  to  perform  and  which  it  is  every 
way  expedient  they  should  perform. 

They  are  peculiai  ly  fitted  to  perform  this  function  of  rati- 
fying, or  rather,  of  vetoing  measures  (with  which  our  Presi- 
dent and  governors  are  at  present  and — as  we  contended  in 
the  previous  chapter — improperly  entrusted)  while  they  are 
peculiarly  unfitted  for  the  function  with  which  they  are  now 
constitutionally  invested :  that  of  selecting  men  of  whose  qual- 


176  ADMINISTRATION 

ilicatioiis  they  can  know  nothing  for  offices  of  the  duties   ol 
wliich  they  are  ignorant. 

The  people  should  leave  the  framing  of  laws  to  the  wisest 
and  most  competent.  But  because  I  should  not  attempt  to 
make  my  own  shoes,  since  I  am  no  shoemaker,  that  is  no  reason 
why  I  should  not  decline  to  buy  a  certain  pair  of  shoes  which 
the  shoemaker  has  made.  I  need  not  be  a  shoemaker  to  know, 
wlietiier  the  slioes  pinch  me  or  not.  Exactly  so  with  laws 
and  institutions.  The  people  are  amply  qualified  to  say  that 
they  ao  not  loant  certain  laws. 

John  S.  Mill  says  in  regard  to  representative  bodies,  that 
their  proper  ofiice  is  '*'  not  to  make  law  but  to  see  them  made 
by  the  ri^ht  persons,  and  to  give  or  withhold  its  ratification 
of  them.''  '•  Good  sense"  and  "good  intentions,"  the  only 
requisites  for  that  function,  we  must  assume  in  the  body  of 
citizens  or  we  must,  indeed,  despair  of  the  Nation. 

By  the  way.  it  was  Robespierre — for  whom,  however,  neither 
the  wi-iler  of  this  nor  Socialists  generally  have  any  great  ad- 
miration— who  first  proposed  the  referendum^  by  advising  the 
king  to  say :  "-  My  people,  here  are  the  laws  I  have  made  for 
you ;  will  you  accept  them?  " 

The  referendum  is  expedient,  because  the  stability  and  good- 
ness of  all  laws  and  institutions  depend  on  their  suitableness. 
We  have  conqjared  political  institutions  to  coats  that  may  or 
may  not  fit  the  backs.  The  referendum  will  insure,  that  "  the 
coat  will  fit  the  ba(;k,"  in  other  words,  that  the  measures  adopt- 
ed are  commensurate  with  the  development  of  the  people. 
If  the  coat  does  not  fit,  if  a  given  measure  does  not  suit  them, 
they  will  simply  reject  it. 

It  is  expedient,  because  it  and  it  alone  will  arouse  and  keep 
alive  in  the  people  the  interest  in  public  affairs. 

It  is  a  notorious  fact  that  the  voters  in  our  country  and  in 
all  countries  are  absolutely  indifterent  to— we  may  say  truth- 
fully, that  they  look  with  a  sort  of  contempt  on — the  electoral 
franchise;  and  the  humbug  of  representation  that  we  adverted 
to  in  the  preceding  chapter  is  a  sufficiently  good  reason.  Vo- 
ters will  naturally  remain  indifierent,  as  long  as  a  political  cam- 
paign means  but  a  strife  for  candidates.     Whenever  they  do 


OF  AFFAIRS.  177 

vote,  they  will  continue  to  do  so  from  the  same  reasons  wliich 
sololy  influence  tliem  now.  to-wit :  habit,  or  the  desire  to  ad- 
vance a  friend  or  a  "  hero,"  or  the  chance  of  fjjetttino^  a  driiilc. 

P»ut  when  tlie  voters  have  measures  before  them, — not  merely 
general,  and  therefore  vague,  constitutional  provisions,  but 
directs  special  measures — to  discuss  and  tlien  to  ratify  or  reject, 
it  may  fairly  be  expected,  that  they  will  take  a  considerable 
and  increasing  interest  i:i  public  affairs.  Then,  also,  they  will 
verj"-  likely  come  more  and  more  to  appreciate  the  fact,  that 
Suffrage  is  not  a  right  at  all — if  it  were,  votes  would,  indeed, 
be  things  to  be  sold  or  given  away,  at  pleasure — but  sl  public 
trust. 

The  referendum  is  expedient,  because  bills  will  then  be  intel- 
ligently discussed  before  they  become  laws.  We  shall  then 
no  more  witness  the  indecency,  that  important  laws  the  pro- 
visions of  which  even  often  are  unknown  to  the  legislators 
are  enacted  in  the  hurry  of  the  last  night  of  a  session,  under 
the  spur  of  the  party  whip.  Then  we  shall  no  longer  see  huge 
volumes  of  trash  issuing  yearly  from  legislative  halls,  but  shall 
have  few.  and  none  but  necessary,  laws. 

"•  But  this  is  all  nonsense  to  propose  to  get  along  without 
representatives.  The  people  of  a  large  country,  like  that  of 
ours,  cannot  possibly  pass  upon  all  laws." 

Yes,  we  know,  that  once  upon  a  time  somebody  made  a  re- 
mark of  that  kind,  and  that  it  has  been  echoed  and  re-echoed 
ever  since,  llunianity  does  really  resemble  a  flock  of  sheep 
which  are  known  to  be  so  conscientious,  that  if  you  hold  a 
Stick  before  the  wether  so  that  he  is  forced  to  vault  in  his  pas- 
sage, the  whole  flock  will  do  the  like  when  the  stick  is  with- 
drawn. 

Why  cannot  the  people,  even  of  so  populous  and  extensive 
a  country  as  ours,  vote  upon  all  laws?  Do  not,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  our  people  vote  to  reject  or  accept  the  constitutions  of 
their  several  states?  Do  they  not  practically  vote  for  the  Pres- 
ident? What  reason  in  the  world  is  there,  why  they  cannot 
just  as  well  vote  upon  a  law  as  upon  a  constitution  or  upon 
men? 

And  what  reason  is  there  for  the  people  to  have  "represen- 


178  ADMINISTRATION 

t.-itives"  at  all?  True,  they  needs  must  liave  men  to  direct  af- 
fairs and  to  do  certain  work  for  them.  These  men  are  their 
a'jents  for  ceitiiin  purposes,  but  in  no  sense  thoir  representatifrs. 
It  is  tlieir  fictitious  "representative"  character  which  permits 
J*eiinsylvania  legislators  to  drag  along  the  scandalous  extra 
session  and  prevents  their  being  kicked  out  of  their  seats  ns 
they  ought  to  be.  It  is  tiiis  "  representative"  character  th:it 
is  the  father  of  all  parliamentary  nonsense,  blundering  work 
and  the  *•  practical  politics"  in  which  Garfield  was  such  an 
adept,  and  of  which  he  fell  such  a  signal  victim. 

Under  the  Socialist  Regime  the  Administrators  will  form  a 
imrking  Body,  not  a  talldng  Body.  The  people  in  their  oriran- 
ic  capacity  will  watch,  stimulate  and  control  them  but  not 
meddle  with  details.  Their  agents  will  have  been  put  into  the 
positions  they  occupy,  because  they  know  better  than  anybody 
else  how  to  conirive  the  means  and  execute  the  measui-es  de- 
manded. They  will  administer  the  Nation's  affairs  as  a  pilot 
directs  and  handles  a  ship,  but  the  direction  of  the  Ship  of 
State  will  be  indicated  by  Public  Opinion. 

But  the  pertinacious  curiosity  of  critics  will,  undoubtedly, 
not  be  satisfied,  before  they  have  a  sketch  of  such  a  Socialist 
administration  before  them  for  examination. 

Well,  anybody  can  construct  such  an  administration  in  his 
imagination  as  well  as  we  can,  if  he  only  will  keep  steadily 
before  him  these  three  requirements :  firsts  that  all  appoint- 
ments be  made  from  below ;  next.  t\i\xt  the  directors  stay  in 
office  as  long  as  they  give  satisfaction  and  not  on<^  moment 
beyond ;  and.  lastly^  that  all  laws  and  regulations  of  a  general 
nature  must  first  be  ratified  by  those  immediately  interested. 
We  have  no  better  means  of  guessing  how  those  who  come 
after  us  will  construct  their  administrative  machinery  in  de- 
tail than  anybody  else;  and  modern  Sociali^^ts  are  not  fond  of 
laying  down  rules  for  the  guidance  of  coming  generations. 

In  order,  however,  to  show  that  an  administration  without 
President,  without  national  or  local  '"debating  societies"  of 
any  kind  is  really  possible,  we  shall  «lraw  such  a  one  in  out- 
line; but  please  bcai  in  mind  that  Socialism  must  not  be  .uade 


OF  AFFAIRS.  170 

responsible  for  this  fancj'^-sketeh  of  ours.  We  do  this  tne 
more  willingly,  because,  as  our  thoughtful  readers  must  have 
observed,  there  is  one  )n^h]_y  important  provision  that  we  for 
good  reasons  have  left  entirely  unnoticed. 

Supposf,  then,  every  distinct  branch  of  industry,  of  agri- 
culture, and.  also  teachers,  physicians  etc.  to  form,  each  trade 
and  profession  l)y  itself,  a  distinct  bod_y.  a  Trades-Union  (we 
simply  use  the  term,  because  it  is  convenient)  a  guild,  a  cor- 
poration managing  its  internal  affairs  itself,  but  subject  to 
collective  control. 

Suppose,  further,  that/,  i.  the  "  heelers''  among  the  opera- 
tives in  a  shoe-fiictory  in  Lynn  come  together  and  elect  t'leir 
Foreman  and  that  the  *  tappers,'  the  •  solcrs,'  the  *  finishers.' 
and  whatever  else  the  various  operators  may  be  called,  do 
likewise.  Suppose  that  these  Foremen  assemble  and  elect  a 
Superintendent  of  the  factory,  and  that  the  Superintendents 
of  all  the  shoe-factories  in  Lynn,  in  their  turn,  elect  a— let  us  call 
him — District-Superintendent.  Again,  we  shall  suppose  these 
District-Superintendents  of  the  whole  boot  and  shoeindustry  to 
assemble  themselves  somewiiere  from  all  parts  of  the  country 
and  elect  a  I>ureau-Chief.  aud  he  with  other  Bureau-Chiefs  of 
related  industries,  say,  the  tanning  industry,  to  elect  a  Chief 
of  Department. 

In  the  same  manner  we  shall  suppose,  that  we  have  got  a 
Chief  for  every  group  of  related  mechanical  and  agi-icultural 
and  mining  pursuits,  a  Chief  for  the  teachers,  another  for  the 
phj'siciaiis,  an('therfor  the  judges — see  next  chapter — further, 
one  or  more  Cliiefs  for  transportation,  one  or  more  for  com- 
merce— in  fact,  suppose,  thit  there  is  not  a  social  f unctioii 
whatever  that  does  not  converge  in  some  way  in  such  Chief 
of   Department. 

However,  we  do  not  want  too  many  of  those  Chiefs,  for  we 
mean  to  make  a  working  Body,  not  a  talking  Body,  out  of 
them  We  mean  that  these  Chiefs  of  Department  shall  form 
The  National- Board  of  Administrators,  whose  function  it  sliall 
be  to  supervise  the  whole  social  activity  of  the  country.  Each 
Chief  will  supervise  the  internal  affairs  of  his  own  departmr-Vit 


180  ADMINISTRATION 

and  the  whole  Board  control  all  those  matters  in  which  the 
General  Public  is  interested. 

But  just  as  all  inferior  otTioers  this  National  Board  will  be 
nothing  but  a  body  of  administrators;  they  will  be  merely 
trusted  agents  to  do  a  particular  work;  they  will  be  in  no  sense 
'•governors"  or  '•*  rulers; ""  or  if  anybody  should  choose  to 
call  their  supervision  and  control  "  government,''  it  will,  at  all 
events,  rather  be  a  government  over  things  than  over  men.  For 
they  will  decree  no  laws. 

If  a  general  law  is  thouglit  expedient,  one  that  will  affect 
the  people  at  large  or  those  of  any  one  department,  then  we 
suppose  this  National  Board  simply  to  agree  on  the  general 
features  of  the  measure,  and  thereupon  entrust  the  drafting 
of  the  proper  bill  either  to  the  Chief  whose  department  it  prin- 
cipally concerns,  or,  what  might  be  the  nsual  course,  to  the 
Chief  of  the  Judges.  When  this  draft  has  been  discussed  and 
adopted,  the  Board  Avill  submit  it  to  the  people  either  of  the 
whole  country  or  of  the  department,  as  may  be,  for  their  rat- 
ification. The  National  Board  is  thus  no  lawmaker,  therefore 
no  "government""  but  an  executive  body  stricthj. 

But  lioio  shall  we  exact  that  rssponsibilUy  on  which  toe  laid  so 
much  stress;  which  we  consid<'red  the  ver}' kej'Stone  of  De- 
mocracy? That  important  question  we  have  hitherto  not 
touched  upon  at  all.  for  the  simple  reason  that  there  is  abso- 
lutely nothing  in  the  tendency  of  things  that  can  guide  us  to 
any  solution.  The  constantly  reiterated  demands  of  the  work- 
ing-classes and  their  mode  of  procedure  in  their  own  affairs 
teach  us  what  course  they  will  pursue  as  to  Appointments, 
Tenure  of  Oflice  and  the  Passage  of  Law-^  but  nothing  definite 
about  Jiemovals.  And  yet  this  point  is  second  to  none  in  im- 
portance :  How  shall  we  prevent  these  Foremen,  Superintend- 
ents and  especially  the  Chiefs  of  Departments  from  being  at 
an}-  time  the  masters  of  the  situation? 

Well,  the  writer  of  this  can  say  how  it  may  be  accomplished, 
but  does  not  at  all  pretend  to  say,  how  it  icill  be  done. 

Experience,  has  shown,  that  responsibility  to  many  is,  in 
ordinary  ease>,  no  re.-:ponsibility  at  all.  We  therefore  hoM, 
that  if  these  directing  functionaries  are  to  be   made  respon?i< 


OF  AFFAIRS.  181 

ble   for  tlieir  work,   they  must  he  made  responsible  to  some  one 
person.     But  who  is  the  proper  one  person? 

We  noticed,  that  every  directing  officer  should  be  responsi- 
ble not  aU^ne  for  the  work  he  himself  does,  but  also  for  th: 
work  of  his  subordinates.  He  must  see  to  it,  that  they  do  theit 
work  well.  Is  not  this  a  sufficiently  good  reason  why  every 
dirt^cting  official  should  be  given  tlie  right  instantly  to  dismiss 
any  one  of  his  subordinates  for  cause  assigned;  inefficiency 
being,  as  already  stated,  the  very  best  of  causes.  When  then 
a  foreman  was  inefficient,  he  would  be  removed  inptnntly, 
without  trial,  by  his  superintendent ;  he  ao:ain  might  be  re- 
moved by  his  bureau-chief — perhaps  for  abuse  of  pov'or  in  re- 
moving the  foreman:, — this  bureau-chief  again  by  his  depart- 
ment-chief. 

But  the  latter  official,  to  whom  shall  he  be  responsible?  Some 
would  say.  to  the  whole  Body  of  Administrators.  And  yet 
the  ver}'^  obvious  objection  might  be  raised  to  such  an  arrange- 
ment, that  it  would  really  be  no  responsibility,  for  are  not  those 
administrators  all  equals,  and  interested  in  upholding  each 
other  in  power? 

Suppose  we  make  every  Department  Chief  liable  to  removal 
by  the  whole  body  of  his  subordinates. 

That  is  to  say,  suppose,  that,  whenever  the  workers  of  a 
given  depaitment,  inclusive  of  Foremen,  Superintendents  and 
other  officials,  become  dissatisfied  with  th^-ir  Chief,  they  all 
meet  in  their  different  localities  and  vote  on  the  dismissal  of 
that  Chief,  and  that  he  be  considered  removed  from  office  the 
moment  the  collective  judgment  of  the  whole  department  is 
known,  if  that  judgment  be  adverse  to  him.  Then  the  Bureau- 
Chiefs  immediately  proceed  to  elect  another  Chief  of  Depart- 
ment who  can  be  removed  in  like  manner,  if  he  should  not 
suit  the  workers. 

That  feature,  then,  of  the  plan  M'e  have  sketched  which 
must  be  charged  to  the  personal  bias  of  the  writer  of  this  is, 
that,  while  the  subordinates  elect,  the  superiors  dismiss.  This 
feature  we  hold  will  divide  power  b  tween  skill  and  numbers 
In  the  proper  proportion.  We  deem  it  a  pretty  good  applica- 
tion of  the  famous  proposition  of  Harrington  in  his  "  Oceana" 


182  ADMINISTRATION 

who  wanted  power  divided  on  theprincijile  which  governs  two 
children  in  fairl\'  dividing  a  cake  :  that  the  one  halves  the  cake, 
wiiile  the  other  chooses  its  ])ortion.  This  feature  will  crente 
perfect  harmony  between  responsibility  on  one  hand  and  sub- 
ordination on  the  other.  The  F\)remen  elect  tlieir  Supei  intend- 
ent,  but  the  moment  he  is  elected,  he  is  indei)cnd('ntof  them  ; 
how  else  could  he  be  responsible  for  himself  and  for  thorn  to 
his  superior?  But  by  making  the  Chief  of  all  in  each  de- 
partment responsible  to  all  his  subordinates,  we  have  vindi- 
cated the  ultimate  rule  of  that  impersonal  Power:  Public 
Opinion. 

One  point  yet  remains  unnoticed,  <Jan  the  foreman  also  dis- 
miss any  of  his  workers  for  inefficiency  or  other  cause?  It 
will  easily  be  seen,  that  this  is  a  quite  different  matter  from 
the  dismissal  of  a  directing  official.  When  the  latter  is  re- 
moved, he  is  simply  put  back  among  the  rank  and  tile,  ujitil 
elevated  by  a  new  election.  He  has  no  right  to  his  office. 
But  whereto  could  a  worker  be  removed?  He  must  be  em- 
ployed somewhere.  Of  course,  there  must  be  some  kind  of 
remedy  by  which  Society  could  protect  itself  against  any  re- 
bellious or  negligent  worker.  For  such  cases  a  trial  bv  his 
comrades  might  be  provided,  the  issue  of  which  might  be 
removal  to  a  lower  grade  or  some  sort  of  compulsion. 

Now.  is  this  not  Democracy? 

It  is  certainly  Admiiiistr.ition  ?)?/ f/ie  P^op7^.  Every  citizen 
will  actually  help  in  administering  affairs  by  having  some- 
thing considerable  to  say  about  who  is  to  be  his  immediate  su- 
perior. This  feature  is  really  the  greatest  of  all.  by  far;  it 
provides  akind  of  a  primary  election  which  is  not  child's  play. 
And  that  it  will  work  well  in  practice  the  Catholic  church 
may  teach  us  :  cardinals  elect  the  pope;  priests  nominate  their 
bishops  and  monks  their  abbots.  That  church,  by-the-way. — 
the  most  ingenious  of  human  contrivances — can  teach  us  many 
a  lesson  and  we  are  fools  if  we  do  not  profit  by  them. 

Such  a  system  as  that  we  have  sketched  insures  EqualHii. 
ft  will  not  make  all  equally  wise  in  all  matters,  but  it  will  d»s- 
ti<»y  all  irro.sponsihld  power,  abolish  every  trace  of  dependence 
on  indioiduals.    All  authority  will  be  a  public  trust;  whenever 


OF  AFFAIRS.  183 

there  is  Snborclination  on  the  one  hand,  there  is  on  the  other 
Rosponisibility.  Instead  of  a  slavish  subjection  to  anybody's 
autocratic  will,  there  will  be  loyal  submission  by  all  to  the 
common  impersonal  superior.  That  is  a  difference  which  the 
penitent  operators  of  the  W'estern  Union  who  lately  signed 
certain  so-called  contracts(!)  ought  to  be  able  to  appreciate. 
It  by  no  means  implies  negation  of  all  impulse,  all  initiative 
from  those  who  are  the  wiser,  for  equality  is  not  likeness;  it 
rather  is  synonymous  with  variety,  just  as  the  same  soil  in  free- 
dom products  all  kinds  of  trees. 

Such  a  system,  finally,  establishes  the  best  security  for  the 
best  administration;  it  will  furnish  us  those  "real  rulers"  for 
whom  Carlyle  yearned.  Here  again  we  cin  appeal  to  the  ex- 
perience of  the  Catholic  church,  which  knows  how  so  to  possess 
herself  of  her  priests,  that  they  are  as  wise,  acute  and  pushing 
for  her  as  the  most  consummate  man  of  the  world  is  for  his  own 
interests. 

But  Public  Opinion — the  organic  opinion  of  the  people,  not 
what  they  separately  think, — the  Public  Oouscience,  will  rule 
tliese  **real  rulers." 

In  three  ways  this  impersonal  Power  will  assert  itself:  by 
the  referendum,  by  giving  or  refusing  those  highest  in  authori- 
ty a  vote  of  confidence,  and  last,  though  not  least,  by  and 
through  the  public  journals. 

Our  journals  have  really  a  far  more  representative  character 
than  Congress  or  our  legislatures,  and.  further,  they  are  '•  rep- 
resentatives" in  constant  session.  True,  they  do  not  repre- 
sent the  people,  for  they  rsprcsent  in  no  sense  the  workiiig- 
classes— these  are  as  yet  to  all  intents  and  purposes  perfectly 
dumb — but  they  represent  very  well  our  comfortable  classes, 
our  ruling  classes,  the  *•  Messrs.  six  per  cent.''  This  will  all 
be  changed  in  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth. 

Some  will  here  remark :  '' If  newspapers  are,  also,  to  be 
collective  property,  as  we  suppose  they  are,  and  publish^  d 
only  by  public  authority,  we  do  not  see  much  chance  for  any 
opinion,  aside  from  '•  official"  opinion,  to  assert  itself." 

Let  us  observe  that  our  present  journals  have  three  functions : 

First,  t\iQy  are  «et<;spapers.     To  gather  and  give  the  news  is 


184  ADMIXISTRATION 

their  principal  object.  And  that  is  the  main  reason  why  they 
represent  the  well-to-do  classes,  exclusively,  for  it  takes  lots 
of  money  to  get  the  news. 

Next,  they  are  puhlic  criers.  They  devote,  in  fact,  most  of 
their  columns  to  pushing  and  puffing  all  sorts  of  private  en- 
terprises. 

Lastly,  there  is  a  little  space  left  for  "  editorials,"  in  which 
garrulous  writers,  in  the  pay  of  the  ''■Messrs.  six  per  cent." 
do  the  thinking  for  their  employers;  since  they  represent 
mediocrity,  it  goes  without  saying,  that  it  is  very  ordinary 
thoughts  they   furnish,  none  very  exciting — narcotic,  rather. 

In  the  Comming  Commonwealth  the  first  two  functions  will 
be  separated  from  the  one  last  mentioned. 

There  will  probably  in  every  community  be  published  an 
official  journal  which  will  contain  all  announcementsof  a  pub- 
lic nature  and  all  the  news,  gathei-ed  in  the  most  ethcient  man- 
ner by  the  aid  of  the  national  telegraph  service,  but  no  com- 
ments. 

But  we  are  assured  that  besides  these  there  will  also  be  pub- 
lished many  private  journals,  true  champions  of  princi])les 
and  measures.  True,  the  printing  press  will  be  a  collective 
institution — but  it  will  be  open  to  every  one. 

Anyone — whatever  unpopular  opinions  he  may  entertain, 
however  hostile  to  the  administrators  he  may  be, — will  be  en- 
^  titled  to  have  anything  decent  printed,  provided  he  is  ready 
to  pay  for  the  work  done,  or  to  guarantee  by  hiinself  or 
friends  that  the  cost  will  be  defrayed.  Of  course,  a  line  must 
be  drawn  somewhere,  as  has  at  all  times  and  in  all  countries 
been  done.  Public  Opinion  has  always  insisted  u])on.  that 
there  is  something  it  will  not  tolerate — and  so  it  probably  will 
always  be  and  so  it  ought  to  be. 

Some  one  has  happily  chnracterlzed  Carlyle  as  the  man  who 
*'  brought  us  out  of  the  Egypt  of  shams  into  the  desert  and — 
left  us  there."  Carlyle  did  a  splendid  work  in  bringing  us  out 
of  the  shams  of  representative  parliamentarism,  but  he  was 
sadly  mistaken  when  he  wanted  us  to  go  back  to  the  forms  of 


OF    AFFAIRS.  185 

the  Middle  Ages.  The  "  Eternal  Silences  "  have  decreed  De- 
mocracy, which  in  the  fullness  of  time  will  transform  tlie  par- 
ty-ridden American  people  into  a  self-assertive  people,  trans* 
form  the  goose  into  an  eagle. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ADMINISTRATION     of     JUSTICE 
IN     THE     COOPERATIVE     COMMONWEALTH. 


"■  Our  judicial  system  :  a  technical  one,  invented  for  the  cre- 
ation of  costs." — Ilomilhj. 

'•  Distinguished  pleaders  defeat  justice  while  establishmg 
points  of  law." — Frazer's  Mag.  Nov.  79. 

'•There  never  was  such  an  infernal  cauldron  as  that  Chan- 
cery on  the  face  of  the  earth  !  Nothing  but  a  mine  below  it 
on  a  busy  day  in  term  time,  with  all  its  I'ecords,  rules,  and  prece- 
dents collected  in  it,  an<l  every  functionary  belonging  to  it  also, 
higli  and  low,  upward  and  downward,  from  its  son  the  Ac- 
countant-General  to  its  father  the  Devil,  and  the  whole  blown 
to  atoms  with  ten  thousand  hundred  weight  of  gunpowder 
would  reform  it  in  the  least!  " — Charles  Dickens. 

It  is  evident  tliat  in  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  there 
will  be  far  less  litigation  than  now.  Evciyone  familiar  with 
the  business  of  our  Courts  knows,  that  casus  arising  from  con- 
tract contribute  by  far  the  largest  part  of  that  business.  If 
these  were  extirpated;  if  our  Courts  had  to  deal,  onl}-,  with 
cases  of  torts  and  criminal  cases,  the  great  majority  of  our 
high-prized  lawyers,  now  crowded  with  *•  business,"  would 
have  to  seek  pastures  new.  Now,  such  cases  will  in  the  new 
Commonwealth  necessarily  be,  if  not  entirely  done  away  with, 
iuimensly  reduced,  at  all  events,  on  account  of  its  taking  all 
t'literprisea  of  any   social  account  into  its  own  hands.    As  to 


OF   JUSTICE.  187 

criminal  cases  w'e  may  be  pretty  sure  that  tliey  will  diminish 
materially. 

Probably  nearly  all  the  cases  brought  before  the  nationa; 
courts  for  determination  will  be  those  arising  between  the 
Trades-Unions,  Guihis,  Corporations,  or  whatever  they  will  be 
called,  and  their  members,  or  between  the  Guilds  themselvess, 
or,  finally,  between  them  and  the  Departments. 

Further,  when  discu.ssing  the  referendum  we  remarked,  that 
its  introducLion  would  naturally  tend  to  reduce  considerably 
the  bulk  of  our  statute-law  and  to  prevent  frequent  changes 
in  the  same.  The  innnense  reduction  in  \.\\q subject  matter  oi  leg- 
islation, mentioned  in  the  preceding  paragraph,  and,  more  than 
all.  the  wiping  out  of  all  State-lines  and  State-jurisdictions, 
will  contribute  materially  to  the  same  end.  We  are  now  in  mat- 
teisof  legislation  pretty  much  in  the  condition  F" ranee  was  in 
before  her  Great  Revolution.  Her  laws,  it  was  said,  were 
changed  as  often  as  were  her  post-horses;  we  may  be  said  to 
change  laws  as  often  as  we  do  railroad-cars. 

Under  the  futtire  Social  Order  we  may  hope  to  have  a  liandy, 
compact  and  yet  accurate  and  comprehensive  code  of  Zas?- 
ing  statutes,  so  that  the  requirements  of  law  will  not  needs  be 
a  mystery  to  anybody  for  ever  after. 

And  yet,  though  such  a  change  in  itself  will  be  of  far-reach- 
ing importance,  it  will  constitute  but  a  stnall  fraction  of  that 
revolution  which  the  two  principles  of  Collective  Control 
and  Democracy  will  bring  about  in  our  judicial  system.  For 
that  which  gives  value  to  all  laws  is  the  method  of  adminis- 
tering them;  and  that  method  will  itself  be  revolutionized. 

lu  the  first  place,  our  present  method  of  administering  jus- 
tice is  that  ot  Warfare.  Our  method  makes  of  the  profession 
of  law  tlie  art  of  gaining  a  victory;  of  a  Court  of  Justice 
a  battleground;  it  uses  witnesses  as  soldiers  and  rules,  preced- 
ents and  technicalities  as  weapons  and  engines  of  war.  Withouc 
perceiving  this  you  cannot  possibly  reconcile  the  profession- 
al code  of  the  lawyer  with  personal  morality. 

Listen  to  this  code  : 

If  a  lawyer  wins  a  case  by  superior  vigilance,  he  has   done 


188  ADMINISTRATION 

jnst  what  liis  duty  requires  of  hiin,  even  if  he  knows  he   is  on 
the  wroufj  side. 

It  is  u  proper  move  for  a  lawyer,  adroitlj^  to  lead  his  adver- 
sary away  from  uuassailable  legal  positions,  or  manoeuvre  him 
out  of  superiority  of  evidence. 

A  lawyer  must  steer  around,  must  dodrie  tlie  law  against  hira. 

A  lawyer  should  see  to  it,  if  he  may  not  surjjrise  his  adver- 
sary, or  even  the  judge.,  into  some  uotion  which  will  render  a 
^.ew  trial  probable  sfiould  the  verdict  be  against  him ; /.  i. 
make  the  judge  overrule  an  objection  by  stating  a  Jlimsy  ground., 
while  he  conceals  the  true  one.  Indeed,  our  shining  lights  of 
the  bar  do  daily  act  on  the  comprehensive  rule,  that  they  may 
do  anything  to  gain  the  victory,  except  suborning  witnesses 
and  torging  precedents. 

'J'his  code  of  the  profession  becomes  perfectlj'-  comprehensible 
in  the  light  of  the  theory,  tiiar  a  law-suit  is  a  campaign  of  war. 
In  fact,  it  cannot  be  defended  on  any  other  ground  than  the  one 
which  allows  pertldy  and  decent  in  war.  A  g;.Mieral  must  vaa- 
quish  the  enemy  by  all  nicans.  and  in  the  same  way  it  is  made 
the  duty  of  the  most  conscientious  counsel  after  he  is  I'etained, 
to  have  this  thought  steadily  in  his  mind:  '^HovvsliallL 
bring  the  judge  and  the  juiy  to  decide  for  my  client?  How 
can  I  cripple  and  obstruct  my  opponent?  flow  c:in  I  make  my 
case  appear  to  have  the  law  on  its  side?"  without  for  a  mo- 
ment inquiring  into  the  justice  of  his  case.  To  this  miserable 
theory,  that  the  profession  of  law  is  the  nrt  of  warfare,  of 
strategy  and  nianceuvring.  is  due,  exclusively,  tin;  spoliation, 
the  evasion,  the  lailure  of  justice,  almost  synonymous  with 
hiw. 

Tims  it  explains  M-hy  the  profession  so  persistently  sticks  to 
the  cumbrous  jury-system  and  to  the  unanimity  of  twelve 
jurors. 

Jiy  the  way,  do  j'ou  know  why  there  always  must  be  exact- 
ly twelve?  Lord  Coke,  tin;  aj^ostle  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  law- 
yer, enlightens  j'ou  :  because  there  were  twelve  apostles,  and 
tweUe  tribes  of  Isr.-iel ! ! ! 

Whenever  you  find  a  lawyer  with  a  i)oor  case,  j'ou  can  be 
sure  that  nothing  will  make  him  waive  liis  grand  constitution- 


OF   JUSTICE.  189 

al  right  to  a  jury.  lie  has  been  taught  that  the  lawyer  must 
use  as  allies  even  the  erroneous  prejudices,  even  the  ignorarbce 
of  mankind.  Then  there  is  the  delicious  uncertainty  about 
the  verdict  of  a  petit  jury,  which  exactly  chimes  in  witli  the 
warfare  idea.  There  is  a  chance  for  a  verdict  m  ins  favor,  for 
u  disagreement,  and,  lastly,  for  a  new  trial .  Hence  such  riic- 
toiical  laudations  as  this :  ^-  No  better  tribunal  has  yet  been  de- 
vised than  a  jury  of  twelve  intelligent,  honest  and  fairminded 
men."  Any  suggestion  that  three  such  men.  with  a  majority 
to  decide,  would  do  as  well,  is  frowned  down  by  the  profes- 
sion.    For — that  would  very  much  diminish  the  chances.  * 

Again,  to  this  theory  that  it  is  the  duty  of  the  prolession  to 
tight  battles  and  win  victories  is  due  the  fact  that  the  decision 
of  a  case  very  seldom  hinges  on  a  statute  law  and  general 
maxims  of  equity,  but  almost  always  on  some  precedent,  that 
is,  some  similar  case,  preserved  in  one  or  other  of  the  thou- 
sand American  or  English  **  Heports." 

T'he  citizen  who  supposes,  that  the  '"law"  he  is  governed 
by  is  the  statute-law  of  his  state  is  very  much  in  error.  The 
statute-law  is  the  most  insigniiicant  fraction  of  our  laws. 
The  *■•  law"  is  something  no  lawyer  can  learn  in  a  lifetime, 
both  on  account  of  the  bulk  of  the  IJeports  (to  which  in  Amer- 
ica alone  a  hundred  volumes  are  added  yearly)  and  because  he 
never  can  be  absolutely  certain  what  is  good,  and  what  bad 
law. 

But  even  if  a  judge  should  be  told  all  the  decisions  on  a  giv- 
en point  that  are  valid,  he  has  no  giiide  in  them  at  all.  There 
stand  the  decisions  in  two  rows :  On  one  hand  those  in  which 
a  question  has  been  decided  one  way ;  on  the  other  those  where 
the  d^'cision  has  been  the  contrary  way — length  of  rows  as 
nearly  equal  as  the  heart  could  wish.  He  takes  his  choice  and 
either  way  he  bows  to  the  name  of  some  "  learned  "judge, 
gome  '  uuthoritj'!  " 

The  fatal  conclusion  thus  is,  that  our  administration  of  jus- 
tice depends  upon  caprice.     The  profession  divines,  rather  than 

*  An  article  :  "  Is  the  Jurj-  Sj-stein  a  Failure?"  in  the  Cen- 
turtj  of  1882  by  Albert  Stickne}',  whom  our  readers  know  Irora 
a  former  chapter,  is  woith  perusal. 


1 90  ADMINISTRATION 

ascertains  the  law.  Am]  ;ill  our  legislation,  in  spite  of  all  codeg 
and  all  '••  reforms,''  is  hy  the  address  of  law^'ers  made  to  rest 
on  precedents. 

Why? 

Because  the  theory  ^f  warfare  requires  snares  rather  tlian 
guides;  it  requires  as  much  nncerlaintij^  connected  Avitli  as 
nuicli  precision  as  possible.  To  say  that  lawyers  have  no  in- 
terests in  the  uncertainty  of  tlie  law  is  to  say  that  ghiziers 
have  no  interest  in  the  breaking  of  wimlows.  Because  y)rc- 
cedents  are  their  engines  of  warfare,  our  lawyers  tenaciously 
cling  to  them  and  have  a  horror  for  broad  principles.  'J'hey 
unwittingly  consider  that  a  virtue  wliich  furthers  the  peculiar, 
sinister  interests  of  their  class. 

The  same  theory,  also,  requires  the  innumerable  technicali- 
ties, rules  and  forms,  that  have  as  little  to  do  with  justice  as 
English  wigs  and  gowns  have.  Our  constitutions  really  per- 
petrate a  witticism,  when  they  guarantee  *•  complete  justice, 
conformably  to  the  laws,"  for  these  laws  silent l3''a^>'si<me  these 
slipper j^  rules  and  subtilties.  To  guarantee  complete  jnstice 
conformahlij  to  rules  that  thwart  justice  is  like  guaranteeing  lib- 
erty inside  locks  and  keys  and  shackles. 

From  this  warfare-tht  ory  follows  another  great  evil — an  out- 
rage upon  every  idea  of  justice.  A  war  demands  money, 
much  money.  No  man,  therefore,  can  commence  or  defend 
a  lawsuit  without  a  replete  pocketbook.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
expensive  speculations  he  can  venture  into,  and  the  longest 
purse  is  pretty  sure  to  win. 

Our  paper-constitutions  pompously  guarantee  ''justice  free- 
ly and  without  purchase,  completely  and  without  denial, 
prom])tly  and  without  delay."  Instead  of  that  this  warfare 
theory  gives  us  the  triple-headed  monster  of  Expense,  Vex« 
atiou  and  Delay. 

And,  lastly,  this  warfare  theor}"  has  a  demoralizing  effect  on 
the  lawyer.  It  gives  far  more  credit  to  him  who  wins  a  bad 
case  than  to  him  who  wins  a  good  one.  It  compels  our  legal 
men  to  be  partisans,  to  be  what  Jeremy  Bentham  sneeringly 
called  them — ••  Messrs.  Eitherside."  There  is  no  radical  dif- 
ference  between  that  "  representative  of  the  bar"  who  for  a 


OF   JUSTICE.  IDl 

fancy  fee  is  the  partisan  of  one  part}'  today,  against  him  peiv 
haps  tomorrow,  an  advocate  of  one  theory  one  nioment,  its  op- 
ponent the  next  nioment.  and  tlie  common  pettifogger.  The  hit- 
ler is  simply  an  irregahir  gnerilhi.  What  do  we  say  of  the 
soldier  who  is  today  in  one  camp,  in  auotiier  tomorrow?  The 
Tides  which  this  theory  makes  obligatory  on  the  lav/yer,  the 
.arts  he  must  practise,  if  practised  in  any  other  position,  would 
I'C  deemed  dishonorable. 

And  the  study  and  practice  of  the  law  under  this  method 
cripples  the  lawyer  intellectually.  Take  him  who  has  raised 
himself  to  the  summit  of  learning  by  wooing  that  *' jealous 
mistress,"  the  law  with  "twenty  years'  lucubrations, "'  the  con- 
dition fixed  by  authorities.  In  what  has  lie  become  '"  learned  ?" 
In  the  conceit  of  centuries  and  the  debris  of  society.  Buckle 
Is  right:  ''Learning*'  serves  Ignorance  as  much  as  it  does 
Progress. 

Take,  next,  the  succesful  practitioner.  What  does  he  gain 
by  ''establishing  points  of  law?" — some  of  which  are  as  un- 
profitable as  the  medieval  puzzle :  how  many  souls  can  dance 
on  the  point  of  a  needle  '?  He  becomes  alert,  smart,  undoubt- 
edly. But  the  practice  of  law  has  the  same  efiect  as  the  ac- 
tion of  tne  grindstone ;  it  narrows  the  mind  as  well  as  sharpens 
it.  Especially  is  that  the  case  with  practitioners  who  devote 
themselves  to  special  branches  of  the  law.  'i'hey  get  to  liave 
a  positive  aversion  to  enlarged  views  and  care  no  more  for  the 
interests  of  mankind  beyond  the  narrow  limit  of  iheir  pur- 
suit than  the  man  who  spends  his  life  in  putting  on  theheads 
of  pins. 

And  yet  the  indifference  of  legal  men  to  the  public  welfare 
—as  long  as  there  are  cases  to  try-by  no  means  keeps  them  away 
from  public  affairs.  On  the  contrary,  a  lawyer  takes  as  naturally 
to  politics  as  a  duck  to  water,  simply  because  politicians  and 
lawyers  are  equally  intriguers.  The  consequence  is  that  their 
vicious  maxims,  antiquated  systems  and  contracted  views  are 
carried  over  into  the  broad  field  of  governmental  affairs,  tak- 
ing the  place  ot  enlarged  views,  suitable  to  the  situation  and 
height  of  the  times.  Lawyers  as  a  rule  make  our  laws,  although 
a  superstition  prevails,  that  this  is  the  work  of  the  people  5 


192  ADMINISTRATION 

but  it  is  an  absurdity  beyond  measure,  that  no  executive  of- 
ficer, ill  purely  administrative  matters,  can  take  a  step  without 
consulting  a  cramped,  in  sucli  affairs  essentially  ignorant,  lavr 
officer,  placed  at  his  elbow. 

In  tlie  second  place,  it  is  a  part  of  our  method  that  the  judges 
make  law  for  the  people. 

What  are  those  precedents  we  mentioned,  which  make  up 
by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  law  we  are  governed  by,  and 
which  ,  in  our  country  alone,  are  manufactured  at  the  rate  of 
a  hundred  volumes  yearlj"-?  They  are  nothing  but  '^'' judge- 
made  law,''  '"■  counterfeit  law  "  in  the  words  of  Beutham.  Of 
such  "  law'*  here  one  example,  only: 

Our  national  constitution  provides,  that  no  state  shall  pass 
anv  law,  impairhig  the  oblij-ation  of  contracts.  Chief  Justice 
Marshall,  by  our  lawyers  snrnamed  '"  the  Great,"  took  upon 
himself  to  say — in  the  celebrated  Dartmouth  College  case- 
that  this  provision  should  ha  so  construed  as  to  prohibit  the 
people  from  altering  charters  and  withdrawing  privileges^  grant' 
ed  by  themselves  to  corporations.  And  such  is  the  law  since 
that  "  great "  decision  was  promulgated. 

No,  one  more  instance,  lor  it  is  too  interesting  to  omit.  Do 
you  know,  why  Christianity  is  a  part  of  tiie  Common  Law  of 
our  country?  Because  an  English  judge,  Lord  Mansfield,  mis- 
translating two  words  of  a  dictum  of  somebody  in  the  15th  cen- 
tury, Q,a\\in\  ancitn  scripture  (Norman  French,  meaning:  an- 
cient writing) — •'•  holy  scripture ! ! !  " 

And  thi^  extraordinary  power  of  our  judges  means,  that  they 
can  provide  a  law  for  cases  after  they  arise.  As  Bentham  said  : 
"•  Tliey  proceed  with  men  as  men  proceed  with  dogs.  When 
jMmr  dog  does  something  you  want  to  break  him  of,  you  wait 
till  he  does  it  and  then  you  thrash  him  for  it.  That  is  what 
judges  do  to  suitors  whom  they  make  reluctant  heroes  of  a 
leading  case."  They,  thus,  exercise  a  power  which  is  express- 
ly forbidden  to  the  legislators. 

But  that  is  not  all. 

The  people's  **  representatives"  pass  a  certain  law.  The 
Deople  obey  it  and  act  under  it.     Afterwards  a  judge  delivers 


OF   JUSTICE.  193 

himself  of  this  piece  of  wisdom  to  some  poor  wretch   whom 
he  has  got  withia  his  jurisdiction:     ••  [  declare  that  law  to  be 
no  law  at  all.    You  were  presumed  to  know  that  all  the  time. 
\Ylieu  you  acted  under  this  so-called  law,  you  did  so  at  your 
peril."    Is  not  that  to  make  the  minister  of  the  law  superior 
to  the  law  itself?   Certainly  it  is.    Hear  Horatio  Seymour  in  an 
article  in  the  jYorth  American  Review :    •'  The  great  distinguish- 
ing feature  of  our  government,  where  we  stand  aloc^  among 
the  peoples  of  the  earth,  is  placing  the  judiciary  above  the  ex- 
ecutive and  the  lawmaking  power." 

Yes,  and  above  the  paople  in  their  organic  capacity.  The 
fate  of  the  constitution  which  the  people  of  California  lately 
adopted  may  lead  us  to  doubt,  if  it  is  possible  for  the  people 
in  their  primary  capacity  to  frame  an  organic  law^  that  will 
not  be  so  misconstrued  by  judges  as  to  defeat  the  very  pur- 
poses they  sought  to  accomplish. 

Against  lawyers  and  judges,  then,  the  people  are  a  cipher. 
Let  the  people  signify  their  will  in  a  way  they  think  cannot 
be  misconstrued — the  judges  come  with  then*  dignilied  coun- 
tenances, saying:  '•  You,  people,  do  not  at  all  know  what  you 
will,  for  you  will  quite  the  contrary  of  what  you  have  said." 
Some  people  talk  of  priestcraft  and  ascribe  all  sorts  of  hor- 
rors to  it!  The  priesthood  that  is  dangerous  may  not  be  the 
one  that  preacheson  Sundays,  but  the  **•  learned  "  ones  to  whom 
on  week-days  law  and  reason,  justice  and  the  public  welfare 
are  merely  subjects  of  play  or  caprice. 

Now  we  can  say  for  certain  that  under  the  Cooperative  Com- 
monwealth this  method  will  be  radically  changed, — our  two 
Socialist  principles  will  not  permit  its  continuance.  We  may 
be  certain. 

Firsts  that  judges  will  not  he  allowed  to  make  counterfeit  laws. 

That  will  be  a  necessary  consequence  from  the  democratic 
principle,  that  what  the  people  have  not  sanctioned  is  notlaw. 
Every  case  will  be  decided  on  its  merits — according  to  the  law 
as  the  people  have  sanctioned  it,  without  regard  to  any  precedents 
whatsoever. 

Precedents,  then,  the  dry^  worthless  historical  knowledge  on 


194  ADMINISTRATION 

which  our  legal  men  have  constructed  their  sham-science, 
called  ••jurisprudence,-'  will  thus  be  Sv/ept  away  under  theii 
feet,  as  was  done  in  France  by  the  Revolution  and  tbe  Code 
Napoleon.  That  this  code  has  been  covered  up  with  new  pre- 
cedents, twenty  times  as  voluminous  as  itself  by  the  lawyers 
having  commenced  their  retinements  over  again,  thus  clog- 
ging the  wheels  of  justice  as  much  as  before,  is  due  to  the  sup- 
pression of  the  principle  of  democracy. 

Second,  it  will  follow,  even  more  necessarilj'-,  that  judges 
will  no  longer  be  permitted  to  nulUfij  laws,  since  in  the  Coope- 
rative Commonwealth  what  the  people  have  sanctioned  is  law. 

This  monstrous  guardianship  of  the  judiciary  over  the  peo- 
ple, dictating  to  them  and  their  representatives,  as  last  resort, 
what  is  law  and  what  lawbreaking,  which  also  Jefferson  de- 
nounced as  undemocratic,  and  ot  which  the  British  Constitu- 
tion, that  we  otherwise  have  tried  so  faithfully  to  copy,  knows 
nothing,  will  cease  to  '■'  distinguish  us  among  the  peoples  of 
the  earth."" 

We  may  be  assured. 

Third,  that  the  whole  tribe  of  lawyers  will  be  abolished  and  with 
them  the  whole  warfare-theory  and  all  its  quibbles  will  be 
swept  away. 

The  New  Order,  with  its  practical  economic  organization  of  all 
public  affairs,  will  have  no  use  vvhateverfor  our  "  Messrs.  Eith- 
erside."  Abolish  the  warfare,  and  the  profession  of  the  law- 
yer is  next  to  useless. 

Lawyers  are  now  necessary  evils— necessary  on  account  of 
our  method  of  Jidmiuistering  justice,  just  as  the  old  Roman 
lawyers  were  necessary,  b3canse  in  R)me  a  suit  was  a  religious 
rile,  requiring  ceremonies  that  o:ily  could  be  p3rfjrmed  by 
the  initiated.  So  because,  and  only  because,  a  lawsuit  is  now 
a  warfare  and  because  technic^alities  and  precedents  are  mys- 
teries to  the  uninitiated;  finally  because  of  the  iimumerable 
conllicting  personal  interests,  we  undoubtedly  could  not  at 
present  very  well  dispense  with  lawyers. 

But  when  this  multiplicity  of  interests  is  done  away  with 
and  the  present  method  of  administering  justice  torn  up  by 
the  roots,  then  their  occupation  will  be  gone.     And  the  Com« 


OF    JUSTICE.  195 

iiii^  Commonwealth  is  not  likely  to  squancler  the  public  treas- 
ures on  useless  fanctionaries. 

Fourth.    To  sue  for  justice  will  be  absolutchj  costless. 

That  is  easily  done,  as  soa:i  as  lawj'ers  are  abolished. 

*•'  lUit  if  justice  be  free,  all  will  avail  themselves  of  it  and 
there  will  be  no  end  to  litigation." 

Is  then  an  appeal  to  law  worse  than  a  trespass?  The  New 
Order  will  not  so  consider  it;  it  will  consider  the  least  injury 
to  any  of  its  citizens  an  injury  to  itself.  Give  me  a  license  to  do 
any  person  at  pleasure  the  minutest  wrong  conceivable;  allow 
me  to  pour  a  drop  of  water  upon  his  head  against  hiswJl ;  thatper~ 
son  is  my  slave.  Our  Commonwealth  will  know  what  a  groiindless 
suit  means:  it  will  know  of  no  such  thing  as  a  frivolous  one. 
Besides,  it  is  the  modern  sparing  justice  that  feeds  iniquity. 
Be  assured,  that  swift  and  unbending  justice,  with  the  lining 
of  malicious  or  litigious  complainants,  will  check  litigation. 

But  it  is  natural,  that  inquirers  should  not  yet  be  satisfied. 
They  will  ask:  '•  What  kind  of  procedura,  then,  will  the  Co- 
operative Commonwealth  introduce?  So  far  3'ou  have  only 
been  tearing  down  the  present  system,  except  that  j'ou  have 
promised  iis  one  positive  achievement,  to-wit.  a  handy,  intel- 
ligible volume  of  laws.  What  system,  now,  will  take  the  place 
of  the  incubus  you  have  relieved  us  of?" 

We  remark  here  as  we  did.  when  the  economic  administra- 
tion under  Socialism  was  discussed,  that  Socialists  have  no 
readj'-made  plan  to  lay  down  for  the  guidance  of  those  who 
will  be  called  upon  to  organize  the  Coming  Commonwealth, 
least  of  all  a  detailed  plan.  They  must  be  guided  by  their  own 
judgment,  the  then  condition  of  affairs  and  the  temper  of  the 
people.  But  we  grant,  that  we  ought  to  show,  if  but  in  the 
merest  outlines,  how  the  New  Social  Order  may  get  along 
without  lawyers  tolerably  well.  Only  bear  in  mind,  that  So- 
cialism is  not  responsible  for  the  system  we  shall  suggest. 

It  will  be  observed,  that  of  our  present  machinery  almost 
everything  has  been  thrown  overboard  except  statutes  and 
judges. 

We  assume,  that  the  New  Commonwealth  cannot  dispense 


196  ADxMINISTFtATION 

with  judo^es;  wc  do  not  mean  our  present  ?a?oy<?r-jnrl^es  (their 
''services'"  will  certainly  biMlispensed  with.)  batmen  especial- 
ly (rained  tf)  judicial  functions,  as  others  are  trained  to  theirs. 
Tiie  notion,  which  many  within  the  Sncialist  ranks  entert:ii:i 
tliat  justice  can.  and  ongiit  to  be,  dispensed  bj^  the  "people," 
is  one  tliey  would  be  radically  cured  of.  if  they  could  have  some 
y  'ars'  expcrieiice  in  the  trial  of  cases  Justice  by  the  ^'people" 
w  »idd  be  mob-justice.  It  would  be  what  ""  lynch  "  justice  is 
now.  It  woidd  in  its  best  form  be  an  article  not  superior  to 
the  scandalous  judgments  for  which  country  Justices-of-the- 
Peace  out  West  are  so  famous. 

We  can  j::ive  good  reasons  for  such  belief.  True,  in  our 
Co  nmonwealth  tliere  \vill  be,  as  we  have  seen,  no  dltflcultyin 
ascertaining  the  law ;  further,  there  will  be  little  or  no  difficulty 
i  n  interpreting  the  law.  But  it  requires,  and  will  likewise  in  that 
Commonwealth  require,  some  judgmsnt  to  apphj  the  law,  and 
what  is  the  most  impoitant  consideration  of  all.  it  requires  a 
i^ood  deal  of  education  and  traiijin<i:to  ascertain  the  truth  where 
the  facts  are  in  dispute,  as  they  are  nearlv  in  every  case.  It 
is  impossible  to  ascertain  the  truth,  without  knowing  how  to 
estimate  the  force  of  evidence,  and  that  knowledge  cannot  be 
acquired,  without  having  a  Science  of  Evidence  and  having 
studied  it  as  much  as  an}''  otlun-  science  needs  to  be  studied  and 
having  learned  the  ait  how  properly  to  apply  it. 

Men  trained  in  that  science,  and  trained  to  be  exact  lo- 
gicians, will  undoubteilly  be  needed,  and  they  will  occupy  very 
distinguished  positions. 

^Ve  apprehend,  that  in  the  future  Commonwealth  our  shatn 
'^science"  of  jurisprudence,  which  in  its  essence  is  nothing 
hut  a  '^  science"  of  precedents,  will  be  supphintcd  with  a  true 
science  of  Evidence,  something  else  than  that  confused  col- 
h'ction  of  arbitrary  lules.  called  ''rules  of  evidence"  which 
Jeremy  Bentham  many  years  ago  so  sharply  and  caustically 
criticised. 

Assuming,  then,  that  we  in  our  Commonwealth  will  have  a 
t)ody  of  trained  judges  we  shall  also  assume  that  they  will 
r.>rm  J;hemselvcs  into  a  Department  like  other  functionaries, 
with  their  Chief  among  the  Board  of  Administrators,    vvliose 


OF  JUSTICE.  197 

peculiar  function  it  possibly  may  be  to  draft  all  proposed  laws. 

But  we  pass  over  to  the  particular  task  we  have  set  ourselves  : 
the  procedure  in  case  of  a  lawsuit. 

Just  as  little  Switzerhmd  will  furnish  us  a  model  of  really 
popular  democratic  administration  in  the  '•  referendum,"  so  it 
is  possible,  tliat  little  Denmark  will  furnish  us  a  model  of  pop- 
ular administration  of  justice  in  her  socallcd*'  Courts  of  Con- 
ciliation," wliich  have  been  in  existence  in  thai  country  since. 
1828  and  durins^  that  period  have  given  immense  satisfaction, 
so  much  so,  indeed,  that  similar  Courts  have  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent been  adopted  by  other  countiies  in  Europe.  The  dis- 
tinguishing feature  of  those  Courts  is  that  no  lawucrs  are  al- 
lowed there.  All  suits  whatsoever',  without  regard  to  the 
amounts  involved,  must,  in  the  first  place,  be  brought  liefore 
these  Courts.  The  judge  takes  down  the  oral  complaiiTtof  the 
plaintiff  and  the  oral  defense  of  the  defendant  and  renders 
judgment  accordingly.  If,  however,  either  of  the  parties  are 
dissatisfied  with  the  judgment,  the  judge  refers  the  case  to  the 
regular  Courts,  in  which  Courts,  however,  no  other  evidence 
is  allowed  to  be  introduced  but  that  which  was  laid  before  the 
judge  sitting  in  the  Coui-t  of  Conciliation. 

A  vast  amount  of  litigation  is  settled  yearly  by  these  Courts, 
because  it  is  the  duty  of  the  judge  to  explain  the  laws  gov- 
erning the  particular  case  to  the  parties,  and  also,  undoubted- 
ly, because  lawyers  are  excluded. 

Our  Commonwealth  wovdd  do  very  well  in  following  this 
Danish  model,  and  only  improve  on  it  in  making  the  judgment 
of  such  a  Court  conclusive  on  the  parties.  This  would  fulfill 
themostimportant  requirement,  namely,  render  lawyers  super- 
fluous, and  taking  down  the  verbal  statements  of  the.  parties 
would  dispense  with  the  useless  lying  ''  pleadings  "  of  our 
present  system. 

But  the  Coming  Commonwealth  might  in  another  way  util- 
ize that  model,  by  ingrafting  some  of  its  features  on  another 
mode  of  determining  suits  at  law  which  is  undoubtedly  be- 
coming more' and  and  more  popular.  We  refer  to  Arbitration, 
which  at  present  would  be  far  more  used  than  is  the  case,  if 
the  tendency  to  resort  to  it  were  not  constantly  obstructed  by 


198  ADMINISTRATION 

our  lawyers,  who  naturally  enough  consider  it  an  inferior  com- 
modity— something  like  neckbeef. 

JSnppose  the  phiintiff  in  a  given  suit  were  required  to  select 
one  of  the  Comnioiiweiiltirs  judges,  who  woukl  take  dovvn  liis 
own  statements  and  those  of  his  witnesses  and  then  notify  the 
defendant  of  the  commencement  of  sucii  a  suit.  He  on  liis 
part  would  select  another  of  the  judges,  who  would  proceed 
in  a  like  manner.  These  two  judges  would  then  confer  togeth- 
er, giving  each  other  the  benefit  of  their  views  of  the  law  on 
the  basis  of  the  statements  taken  down,  which  would  be  le- 
gal evidence,  subject  to  cross-examination,  however,  in  case  of 
discrepancy.  If  the  two  could  not  agree  on  a  dt'cision,  they 
Avould  then  select  a  third  judge,  and  the  decision  of  the  ma- 
jority would  be  the  judgment.  The  same  proceedings  might 
very  well  obtain  in  criminal  cases,  the  judge  representing  tlie 
IState  being  selected  by  the  judges  of  the  district  from  among 
themselves. 

If  it  be  objected,  that  trials  then  would  lose  their  publicity, 
we  answer,  first,  that  arbitrations  now  are  mostly  private,  and, 
next,  that  publicity  is  often  more  subversive  of  justice  than 
otherwise.  Wrongs  to  women  are  by  publicity  often  aggra- 
vated ratlier  than  remedied.  And  administration  of  justice  is 
by  it  not  infrequently  turned  into  a  mighty  abettor  of  the  black- 
ma  iler. 

We  said,  that  our  Commonwealth  might  improve  upon  the 
Danish  model  by  making  the  judgment  of  the  trial-judge  con- 
clusive on  the  parties.    We  mean  that. 

Tiiere  can  be  no  doubt,  that  the  expense  and  interminable 
delay  of  our  lawsuits  are  mainly  due  to  the  many  appeals. 
This  expense  and  delay  are,  also,  the  reason  why  in  most  of 
the  States  we  find  so  many  appellate  Courts  constantly  being 
established  at  the  instance  of  lawyers^  of  course,  and  never 
once  an  appellate  Court  abrogated,  for  do  not  lawyers  want  ex- 
pense and  delay? 

Whij  not  dispense  entirely  with  appeals  under  the  system  of  ar- 
bitration suggested? 

What  is  the  philosophy  of  appeals? 

By  no  means,  that  the  appellate  judge  is  better  fitted  to  render 


OF    JUSTICE.  199 

a  righteous  judo^ment,  for,  not  being  face  to  face  with  the  par- 
ties and  their  witnesses,  he  evidently  is  not. 

No,  the  first  reason  of  appeals  is  that  the  trial  judge  may- 
have  somebody  to  stand  in  awe  of.  so  to  speali.  But  the  judges 
of  the  future  Commonwealth,  being  freely  selected  by  the  par- 
tics,  ceitiiinly  need  no  one  to  stand  in  awe  of. 

A  second  reason  of  appeals  to  liighor  Courts  is  that  the  in- 
terpretation of  the  laws  may  be  uniform. 

That,  liowever,  might  be  accomplished  just  as  effectually, 
and  much  more  conveniently,  by  a  provision,  that  the  judges 
shall  informtheir  Chief  of  all  cases  and  their  particulars,  where 
a  disagreement  lias  taken  place  next,  of  the  cases  where  they 
have  deviated  from  the  strict  law  in  favor  of  equity  and  of  all 
points  arising,  not  yet  provided  for  by  law. 

We  saj'-  ''deviated  from  the  strict  law,"  for  the  judges  should 
have  discretion.     No   law  should  be  inflexible.    It  would  be 
well  to  re-adopt  the  old  maxim  of  the  Roman  law  "'  Siimmum 
jus^  summa  injuria''''  (''the  strict  law  is  often  the  hight  of  in- 
justice.") 

The  Chief  would  then  approve  or  disapprove  of  the  judg- 
ment rendered,  or  of  the  deviation  from  the  hiw  resorted  to 
— a  sort  of  reprimand  or  otherwise — and  introduce  amend- 
ments to  the  existing  laws,  if  thought  proper.  But  the  judg- 
ment below  loould  stand  as  rendered,  and  neither  the  judgments 
nor  disapprovals  should  ever  become  precedents,  or  we  should 
soon  again  be  in  the  meshes  of  the  lawyers.  Nothing  would 
he  law  that  has  not  been  submitted  to  the  people  and  obtained 
their  sanction. 

Under  such  a  procedure  there  would  not  be  the  least  ex- 
ruse  for  our  infamous  bail  system.  Infamous,  because  there 
is  hardly  a  crime  so  great,  but  that  under  that  system  a  friend 
of  Vanderbilt  or  Astor  can  get  out  on  bail  and  have  the 
inestimable  privilege  of  being  at  liberty  to  collect  evidence 
in  his  fiivor  and  otherwise  prepare  for  bis  defence;  and  be- 
cause there  is,  on  the  other  hand,  hardly  a  misdemeanor 
so  trivial  but  that  a  poor  man  cannot  get  out  without  bail. 
Infamous,  because  poor  innocent  witnesses  are  under  that  sys- 
tem  doomed  to  spend  weeks  and  months  in  jail.     There  will 


200  ADMINISTRATION 

be  no  excuse  for  it  under  our  procedure,  for  all  cases  can  under 
it  be  decided  quickly. 

Just  as  we  are  the  worst  party-ridden  of  all  countries,  so 
we  «;ertainly  are  the  most  lawyer-ridden  one.  And  the  lawyer- 
class  is  the  most  luisctiievons  of  all  classes,  the  one  tliat  most 
clogs  tho  wheels  of  progress.  When  the  Supreme  Powers  is- 
sue their  decree,  that  the  Established  Order  is  at  an  end,  then 
with  the  Me}<srs.  Six  jwr  cent  must  go  tlieir  retainers,  the  Messrs. 
EWievsule  and  lawyer-judges.  It  is  even  more  important  to  insist 
upon  their  taking  back  seats  hei-e,  wliere  tliey  claim  to  be  the  peo- 
ple's guardians,  than  in  England,  where  tliey  have  never  ven- 
tured to  deny  the  nation  the  right  to  change  its  institutions  at 
its  pleasure. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  very  principle  of  Democracy  demands 
competent  and  qualified  judges  ^  the  more  so  as  the  very  highest 
of  the  social  activities  is  to  see  justice  done.  We  may  alsc 
rest  assured,  that  the  Guilds  and  Departments  of  the  New  Com- 
monwealth will  insist  on  trained  functionaries  to  whom  to  sub- 
mit their  differences  for  arbitration.  When  legal  training  u 
freed  from  legal  cobwebs,  then  we  shall  have 

Natural  procedure  instead  o/ teghkical  procedare. 


CHAPTEE  X. 


WOMAN  m  THE   COOPEEATIVE  COMMONWEALTH. 


"  The  only  school  of  g-ennine  moral  sentiment  is  society 
betAveen  Equals."' — John  S.  3Iill. 

"•  Why  is  she  constituted  a  woman  at  all? — Merely  that  she 
may  become  a  sort  of  second-rate  man "?  '* — '■'  Biolof/ij  and  Worn- 
an^s  Bights''^  Quarterly  Journal  of  Science,  Nov.  1S7S. 

^'  Work  is  withheld  from  woman  in  theory,  only  to  be  more 
harshly  and  clumsily  inflicted  in  practice." —  Value  of  Life. 

The  Position  of  Woman — of  that  half  of  humanity  out  of 
whose  wombs  the  coming  generations  issue— lias  generally 
been  taken  as  the  measure  of  a  people's  advancement. 

Yet,  woman  has  hitherto  always  been  a  stepchild,  is  even 
so  now,  and  in  our  country,  in  spite  of  our  boasted  "•  chivalry." 
If  the  man  of  toil  is  to  be  pitied,  much  more,  indeed,  is  the 
toiling  woman;  if  a  husband  suffers  from* an  unhappy  mar- 
riage, much  more  a  wife ;  and  the  distance  between  the  great- 
est man  and  the  lowest  slave  has  always  been  far  less  tlian  be- 
tween the  high-placed  lady  and  the  woman  of  the  street.  If 
the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  would  not  be  likely  to  affect 
a  vast  improvement  in  the  lot  of  woman,  it  would  not  be  worth 
hoping  for.   " 

We  have  good  grounds  for  expecting  that  she  will  under  the 
commg  order  of  things  be  raised  as  far  above  her  present 


202  WOMAN. 

position  as  the  woman  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  elevated  above 
her  sister  of  Ancient  Greece  or  Kome. 

Yet,  boar  in  mind  that  Socialisui.  in  its  essence,  has  to  do 
with  economic  rehitions.  Tliere  is  no  Socialist  Mnrriji^c  or 
Family'-  Life;  we  may  add,  there  is  no  Socialist  Education  or 
]M()rals,  but  neither  is  there  any  Socialist  Politics  or  Justice. 
Isevertheless,  Socialism  will,  as  we  saw,  revolutionize  the  Ad- 
ministration of  Art'airs  and  of  Justice.  This  will  be  done  by 
a  direct  effort:  by  discarrling  the  present  machinery  and 
contrive  other  instruments,  suitable  to  collective  control 
of  all  national  affairs.  But  Socialism  will,  also,  have 
many  i??(/u'efi  effects  of  vast  consequence.  Production  and  dis- 
ti  ibution  of  wealth  being  the  roots  of  Society,  tlmj  determine  the 
soundness  of  its  trunk  and  the  quality  of  its  flowers  and  fruit. 
Hence  it  comes  that  Socialism,  by  refasliioning  economic  rela- 
tions, will  i-ogfMierate  Society  throughout  all  its  activitities,"and, 
jnoreparticularl}',  will  have,  most  marked  effect  on  Woman^  on 
Education  and  on  Morals. 

While,  however,  the  influence  of  Social  Cooperation  in  the 
other  two  respects  will  be  a  manifold  one,  as  we  shall  after- 
wards see,  Woman  will  be  affected  in  a  peculiarly  simple, 
though  not  the  less  eflective,  manner.  The  Coming  Common- 
wealth'will  i)lace  her  on  an  equal  footing  with  man,  economic 
call(/^  that  is  all. 

But  here  it  is  even  more  important  than  elsewhere  to  settle 
what  we  are  to  understand  by '■'•economic  Equality."'  NVe 
caimot  do  tliis  better  than  by  comparing  tlie  Socialist  view  with 
the  demands  of  that  persistent  class  of  persons,  known  as 
'•  women's  rights"  champions,  of  whom  John  S.  Mill  Avas  a 
representative. 

These  latter  demand  that  the  avenues  to  all  employments 
hi)  opened  as  freely  to  women  as  the}'  are  to  men — in  other 
words,  the}'  ngitate  for  free  competition  between  the  sexes. 

Well,  we  should  say  that  the  door  to  most  industrial  employ- 
ments has  for  a  long  time  been  open  to  women  ot  the  working 
classes.  According  to  the  U.  S.  Census  of  1880  there  wcie 
632,000   women   engaged    in    manufacturing,  mechanicaJ  and 


WOMAN.  203 

mining  induptrips,  one-pixth  of  the  whole  working  force.  In 
some  indnstries  the  proportion  is  far  greater,  notabl}'  in  the 
cotton  mills,  where  there  are  considerably  more  woiuen  than 
men  employed. 

Have  these  woraen's-rights  agitators  ever  contemplatetl  the 
result?  Which,  under  our  present  industrial  system,  simply 
is,  that  competition  is  rendered  yet  more  savage ;  that  wnges 
sink  to  a  lower  and  lower  level;  that  a  \v)»olefan)ily,  on  an  aver- 
age, comes  to  earn  no  more  than  the  head  of  the  family  used  to 
earn  by  himself. 

Of  these  632,000  females  manj- thousand  were  married  wom- 
en and  mothers  of  children.  What  kind  of  famil}'  life  do 
they  lead?  W^hnt  kind  of  training  (]o  those  children  get?  Ought 
we  to  hanker  after  more  competition? 

Again,  of  the  force  that  used  to  be  employed  in  the  Census 
Bureau  in  AVasliington  to  work  out  the  results  of  the  last  cen- 
sus the  gn^at  mnjority  were  women.  It  is  a  fact,  notorious 
to  those  in  a  position  to  know,  that  these  women  performed 
their  work  in  a  very  slovenly  manner,  evincing  next  to  no  in- 
terest in  what  they  were  set  to  do.  V\''ould,  on  the  other  hand, 
not  that  kind  of  work  have  afforded  an  excellent  training  school 
for  aspiring  young  men,  in  every  way  far  better  fitted  to 
perform  it? 

Now,  ice  say  that  the  worst  that  can  befall  both  sexes  is  for 
woman  to  compete  icith  man  in  man's  tcork.  We  contend,  icith 
JNlill,  for  cquaUtij.  but,  against  Mill,  that  woman  should  not  be- 
come a  second-rate  man.  That  is  to  say,  we  again  urge  the  vital 
distinction,  which  is  constantly  overlooked,  between  being 
equal  and  being  alike. 

Woman  is  diiFerent  from  man  in  intellect,  different  from  him 
in  temperament,  different  from  him  in  muscles.  There  is  a 
])eculiarity  of  construction  in  the  bones  of  the  pelvis  and  chest 
which  forbids  her  to  be  as  much  on  her  feet  as  man.  We  may, 
further,  suggest  certain  notorious,  physiological  facts  that  de- 
mand, in  contrast  to  man.  that  woman  shaU  have  a  periodic 
rest  of,  saj',  three  days  every  four  weeks. 

In  other  words,  instead  of  free  competition  between  the 
sexes,  we  contend  for  special  vocations  for  the  sexes. 


204  WOMAN. 

That,  of  course,  ii  not  to  be  thought  of  under  the  present 
system.  The  proportion  of  \von)eii  to  men  in  shops,  iniiics 
and  factories  will  undoubtedly  contiiuie  to  increase.  In  dis- 
regard of  physiological  facts  manufacturers  will  go  on  re- 
quiring their  female  employees  to  be  on  their  feet  from  morn- 
ing till  night,  and  retail-dealers  will  stick  to  the  rule  against 
sitting  down.  As  a  matterof  sentiment  the}'  may  think  Plato's 
proposition  to  mix  the  sexes  in  all  things  preposterous,  but 
the  system  demands  it.  It  is  just  the  same  thing  in  regard  to 
wages.  Sentimental  people  deplore  the  fact  that  women  are 
paid  less  than  men  for  the  same  work.  There  is  no  help  for 
it  under  our  system  :  the  law  of  wages  demands  it. 

Quite  otherwise  in  the  Co()i)erative  Commonwealth.  Tliere 
woman  will  become  a  functionary,  she  will  have  suitaole  em- 
plo3'ment  given  her,  and  be  rewarded  according  to  results, 
just  the  same  as  man. 

^SzaYaftZe  employment,  mark  you!  Woman  will  there  not 
take  the  place  of  man.  The  sexes  will  there  keep  pare  icith 
each  other,  but — in  accordance  with  the  teaching  of  physiology 
— walk  in  different  pathways.  That  will  simply  mean  that  the 
pi'inciple  which  is  the  basis  of  our  civilization,  to  wit :  Division 
of  Labor  will  be  extended  so  as  to  embrace  both  sexes.  If 
that  principle  is  good  for  man,  why  not  for  man  and  woman? 
Indeed,  we  shall  tind  that  this  extension  of  Division  of  Labor 
will  furnish  the  desideratum  of  the  Coming  Commonwealth: 
competent  workers  in  every  field  of  labor.  Woman  will  surely 
not  be  dragging  behind,  for  we  must  remember  that  whatever 
of  greatness  woman  hitherto  has  accomplished  she  has 
achieved  in  violation  of  the  conventional  code,  but  Nature  with 
equal  laws  always  tends  to  diversity. 

"•  Will  there  be  work  enough  for  all  women  who  choose  to 
engage  in  public  activities?"  you  may  ask. 

Why !  even  now.  in  this  crude  civilization  of  ours,  there  is 
an  abundance  of  work  which  woman  only  onght  to  do.  Why 
should  not  our  women  insist  on  having  female  physicians  (  ve 
do  not  mean  siu'geons)  to  attend  them?  Is  that  (.'ailing  more 
un-womanly  than  nursing?  The  Woman's  Hospitals  in  Phil- 
adelphia and  other  places  whose  medical  stalls  and   students 


WOMAN.  205 

are  women  are  most  excellent  institutions,  uad  mark  the  com- 
ing change. 

And  imagine  once  the  innumerable  huniane  institutions  of 
the  Cooperative  Commonwealth!  They  will  aftbrd  woman  a 
tliousand  opportunities  for  the  exercise  of  lier  peculiar  natural 
gifts — we  need  only  instance  the  Kindergartens,  spread  over 
the  wliole  country,  of  which  we  sliall  liave  more  to  say  in  the 
next  chapter, 

J  low  will  tliis  affect  woman?    Just  as  it  wiil  man. 

As  liis  becoming  a  public  functionaiy  will  destroy  the  ac- 
cursed dependence  on  the  irresponsible  wiil  of  some  individ- 
ual for  a  living  which  now  obtains ;  as  it  will  make  him  a  free.' 
man^  so  it  will  nvAko,  \\qy  a  free-woman.  Woman  now  is  de- 
pendent on  some  man  for  a  living :  on  fiither  or  brotlier  or  hus- 
band or  employer — that  is  why  men  arrogate  to  themselves  to 
say  what  is  woman's  sphere.  Destroy  that  dependence — we 
do  not  say  make  her  i?idependent,  for  "  independence"  is  not 
a  Socialist  word  at  all;  all  will  be  dppendent  on  the  Common- 
wealth and  ^«^er-dependent — give  her  the poicero/  earning'hQ.r 
oww  Vwmg  at  pleasure^  and  «Ae  economic  equality  of  woman  is 
achieved. 

lUit,  undoubtedly,  the  idea  that  all  women,  even  "ladies," 
might  come  to  earn  their  own  living  will  shock  many  a  •'  cliiv- 
alrous"  gentleman  in  these  hypocritic  times.  What  would 
life  be  to  them  without  *' delicate  and  spiritual"  women  to 
whom  to  pay  homage ! 

Well,  the  consideration  that  the  equality  which  we  advo- 
cate will  hardly  give  us  any  female  sailor  or  blacksmith  ought 
to  console  th(Mn  somewhat.  But  we  admit  that  they  have  some 
reason  to  be  horritied. 

For  these  same  persons  generally  fancy,  that  it  is  their  ap- 
preciation that  gives  value  to  woman — a  view,  not  so  very  dif- 
lerent  fi'om  the  Mohammedan  view.  In  the  Coming  Common- 
wealth woman  will  certainly  not.  as  now,  form  her  character 
with  the  express  aim  of  pleasing  the  man-fool.  But  she  will 
have  fuller  opportunities  than  she  ever  yet  has  had  of  develop- 
ing her  specific  gifts  of  womanhood.  Then  esteem  will  be 
substituted  for  vapid  compliments. 


206  WOMAN. 

However,  this  power  of  eaniiuo:  licr  Hvlui^  does  not  mean,  that 
in  the  New  Social  Onler  all  woinen,  or  even  a  majority  of  them, 
will  be  in  the  service  of  tiie  public.  Nothini^  will  prevent  the 
daughters  from  remaining  at  home,  assisting  tlieir  mothers  or 
caring  for  their  fatliers,  and  nothing  will  compel  married  wom- 
en to  neglect  their  domestic  aflairs.  It  simply  means  that  ev- 
ery woman  will  be  enabled  to  earn  her  own  living,  honorably, 
and  pleasantly  lohenever  she  chooses  so  to  do.  And  this  power 
is  essential  to  the  dignity  of  woman,  whether  married  or  single. 

After  what  we  have  said  on  Suffrage  ni  other  chapters  we 
need  not  dwell  on  that  other,  the  principal,  demand  of  our 
••  women's  rights ."  champions,  that  women  now  should  vote 
us  much  as  men. 

We,  of  course.  snpi>o^e  that  in  the  Coming  Common wealtii 
woman  Avill  be  intrusted  witli  the  Suffrage  to  exactly  the  same 
extent  as  man — we  say,  advisedly,  "intrust''  for,  all  these  cham- 
])ions  to  the  contrary,  Suffrage  is  not  a  '  right,"  nor  is  it  a 
privilege^  but  a  trust. 

But  what  would  the  mere  power  to  cast  a  ballot  help  woman 
now,  supposing  it  were  given  to  her?  Suffrage  is  one  of  those 
things  which  are  so  very  valuable,  when  you  have  not  got  it, 
and  so  very  worthless  when  you  have.  The  ballot  has  proven 
anything  but  a  magic  wand  to  the  toiling  working-men,  and  it 
would  be  still  more  impotent  in  the  hands  of  toiling   women. 

The  ballot  would  not  bring  strength  to  the  lightless  eye  or 
the  thin  hand  of  the  needle-woman  of  this  age  of  con)peti- 
tion  ;  it  would  not  remove  the  causes  which  now  make  wom- 
an prefer  almost  any  marriage  to  working  for  a  living.  It 
might  enable  her  to  say  a  word  about  laws  of  divorce,  but 
would  not  enable  her  to  support  herself  when  divorced.  The 
ballot  in  her  hand  might  suppress  lewd  houses,  but  would  not 
prevent  men  from  leading  victims  to  the  altar  of  their  passions 
like  sheep  to  the  slaughter-bench. 

Neither  are  we  blind  to  the  consideration  that  if  woman 
could  exercise  the  suffrage  to-morrow  with  the  State  as  at  pres- 
ent constituted,  the  result  would  in  all  likelihood  be  detrimental 
to  progress,  for  it  is  undeniable,  that  they,  taken  as  a  whole, 
are  far  more  conservative,  cveurcactionar)- — no  fault  of  theirs, 


WOMAN.  207 

though — than  men.  In  the  vvor<ls  of  Admh-al  Maxse  :  ''Those 
who  think  unorthodox,  that  is,  unusual  thoughts,  they  (i.  e. 
women  of  the  present  time)  heHeve  to  he  wicked.  They  turn 
instinctively  from  all  initiative;  mo\ cements.  Even  superior 
women  rarely  have  sympathy  with  the  struggles  which  deter- 
mine the  li!e  of  a  nation.  They  are  only  interested  in  puhlic 
affairs  Avithin  the  limits  of  the  parish."'  I>ut  in  the  ('oming 
Commonwealth  all  these  ohjections  will  disapi^ear,  for  they 
can  all  be  shown  to  be  due  to  their  one-sided  education. 

Let  us,  however  give  credit  to  these  persistent  ''women- 
rights"  agitators  for  one  thing.  We  are  told,  that  in  some 
settlements  on  the  African  coast  free  negroes  sire  taunted  by  the 
slaves  with  having  no  white  man  to  look  after  them.  That  so 
many  of  our  women  have  got  beyond  t^^e  standpoinc  of  those 
slaves  is  in  the  main  due  to  those  agitators. 

But  for  woman  to  expect,  that  her  emancipation  will  be 
worked  out  before  that  of  man  is  altogether  illusive.  And 
this  is  a  sufiicient  leason,  why  all  agitators  for  women's  rights 
ought  with  enthusiasm  to  embrace  Socialism,  w^hich  will  en- 
able woman  to  right,  herself,  all  her  other  wrongs. 

Take  marriage 

Ihe  Xew  Order  will  necessarilv.  by  the  mere  working  of  its 
economic  principles  considerabl}'^  modify  that  relation.  And 
is  that  relation  such  an  ideal  one  now,  that  it  would  be  a  sac- 
rilege to  touch  it? 

Is  marriage  not  now,  at  bottom,  an  establishment  for  the 
support  of  the  woman?  Is  not  maintenance  the  price  which 
the  husband  pays  for  the  appendage  to  himself?  And  because 
the  supply  generally  exceeds  the  demand — that  is,  the  effective 
demand — has  woman  not  often  to  acc(^pt  the  offer  of  the  first 
man  who  seems  able  to  perform  this  pecuniary  obligation  ot 
his? 

This  is  rather  a  commercial  vi«w  to  take  of  this  "holy"  re- 
lation, but  is  not,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  mari'iage  regarded  by 
altogether  too  many  as  a  commercial  institution?  Do  not,  in 
fact,  the  total  of  young  women  form  a  matrimonial  maiket.  regu- 
lated by  Demand  and  Supply?    Nothing  is  more  natural  than 


208  WOMAN. 

tiiat  it  should  be  so  now.  It  is  most  Imman,  that  in  our  pres- 
ent Social  Order  parents  as  well  as  j'^oiing  women  should  look 
upon  marriage,  witliout  prospects  of  subsistence,  witli  horror. 
Now.  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  will  dissipate  that  hor- 
ror. Ic  will  enable  every  healthj'^  adult  man  and  woman  to 
marry  whenever  they  feel  so  inclined,  without  any  present  or 
prospective  misgivings  in  regard  to  their  support  or  the  prop- 
er education  of  children.  Socialists  are  charged,  ignorantly 
or  insidiously,  with  attempting  to  destroy  the  family.  Why! 
wp-  leant  to  enable  every  man  and  icoman  to  form  a  happy  family. 

Somebody  may  here  interject,  tliat  it  is  very  inexpedient  for 
people  to  marry  yonng,  since  they  must  necessarily  be  wanting 
in  judgment.  'J'o  that  we  reply,  that  by  "■  young  people  "  we 
mean  developed,  adult.yovmg  people — children  will  in  a  prop- 
er social  system  remain  in  the  care  of  their  teachers  till  they 
have  grown  to  maturity ;  further,  that  nothing  contributes  so 
much  to  the  chastity  of  a  Nation  as  the  marriage  of  its  young 
men  as  soon  as  possible  after  reaching  the  adult  state;  and, 
lastl3^  that  experience  does  not  teach  us,  that  judgment  in 
love  affairs  increases  with  growth  in  years.  The  fear  of  over- 
population consequent  on  early  and  universal  marriages  we 
have  already  shown  to  be  baseless. 

Next,  the  Coming  Commonwealth  will  destroy  the  matri- 
monial market. 

When  Wealth  ceases  to  be  a  means  of  living  by  the  labor 
of  other  peoi)le,  and  especially  when  an  honorable  and  easy 
living  is  within  her  reach,  we  may  suppose,  that  a  woman 
will  rarely  consent  to  marry  for  anj^thing  but  love,  will  no 
longer  consent  to  be  bought  to  be  a  piece  of  furniture  of  any 
western  Turk.  Here,  again,  it  is  the  power  of  earning  that 
will  confer  true  dignity  on  womanhood. 

Again,  this  economic:il  equality  of  woman  will  greatly  af- 
fect for  the  better  her  position  as  wife. 

Our  marriage  laws  are  the  code  of  the  stronger,  made  by 
lords  for  dependents.  True,  in  many  states  of  our  Union  some 
modilicntions  in  regard  to  property  have  been  effected  in  favor 
of  the  wife.  But  even  in  that  regard  the  enormity  everywhere 
j)rcvails,  that  the  wife  as  survivor  of  her  husband  has  only   a 


EDUCATIOX.  225 

more  importance  to  the  State  than  to  parents,  since  the  effects 
of  it  will  be  felt  by  Society,  and  principally  after  these  parents 
are  dead  and  gone.  It  is  because  through  it  Society  accom- 
plishes the  end  of  its  being,  that  all  education  is  a  \>nb\ic  trust. 

Just  as  little  as  parents  will  the  many  denominational  and 
private  schools  and  colleges  whiidi  we  now  have  do.  Even 
granted  that  the  education  in,  saj'',  the  Quaker  college  of 
Swarthmore  is  fully  up  to  the  standard  of  any  public  college, 
the  New  Order  cannot  get  along  with  such  one-sided,  awr}', 
cramped  men  and  women  as  necessarily  must  issue  from  such 
a  one-sided  school. 

Lastly,  the  same  objection  applies  to  the  Family  as 
to  the  Church :  it  is  incompetent  to  teach.  That  is  the 
main  objection  against  Herbert  Spencer's  justly  popular 
book  on  "Education."  He  assumes  throughout  his  treatise 
(which  might  better  have  been  called  ''Home  Training") 
that  parents  are  competent  to  teach  their  children.  Why! 
the  fact  is,  th.it  even  now  most  children  of  the  age  of  twelve 
are  more  fit  to  teach  their  parents  in  all  more  important  branch- 
es than  the  reverse.  If  any  man  might  be  supposed  qualified 
to  teach  his  son,  it  was  James  Mill,  and  yet  we  know  from  the 
pen  of  John  Mill  that  he  would  have  been  of  greater  ser- 
vice to  the  world,  if  he  had  been  trained  in  a  public  school. 
Now  it  is  true,  that  in  the  New  Commonwealth  mothers  will 
be  tar  better  qualiliwd  to  assist  in  the  development  of  their  in- 
fants than  now,  yet  their  general  incompetency  will  still  re- 
main, on  account  of  the  higher  grade  of  education  which  will 
obtain.  At  all  events,  a  sufficient  objection  is  and  will  remain 
thai  seeming  paradox,  that  oarents  know  none  so  poorly  ajj 
their  own  children;  they  prate  of  qualities  which  no  hnpar- 
tial  person  can  discover. 

The  Coming  Commonwealth  must  radically  do  away  with 
all  and  any  form  of  quackery  and  amateurs  hip,  in  education- 
al matters  especially.  Education  is  essentially  scientific  labor. 
A  competent  and  qualified  body  of  educators  must  therefore  be 
raised  up  to  whom  the  whole  function  of  education  can  be  in- 
trusted. 

Teaching  is  now  a  "business"  and  a  temporary  one  at  that. 


226  EDUCATION. 

To  teach  in  order  to  got  pocket- monoy,  or  wait  for  a  chance 
to  get  into  sonn;  other  *"  business,"  cr  for  a  chance  to 
mairy.  if  the  teacher  is  a  woman  as  generally  is  the  case, 
does  not  ijualify  for  the  grand  ait.  The  time  teaciiers  in  our 
country  practice  their  profession  is  simply  their  own  trainins^ 
period.  We  cannot  have  that  genuine  education  which  tlie 
new  Commonwealth  will  dcmnnd,  before  we  have  teachers  who 
have  themselves  been  genuinely  educated,  next,  thoroughly 
trained  as  teachers  and  who  then  will  devote  themselves  with 
their  whole  soul  to  their  profession. 

Here  again,  and  more  clearly  than  at  any  other  point,  we 
see  how  all-important,  how  indispensable  the  economic  side 
of  the  New  Order  is  to  all  other  progress.  F»)r  these  teachers 
will  not  be  raised  up,  before  we  have  given  them  a  digniljed 
position  economically.  Teaching  is  now  a  temporary  '•'"busi- 
ness," because  it  is  one  of  the  most  unprofitable  positions, 
and  because  the  teacher  occupies  a  verj'-  low  round  in  the  so- 
cial ladder.  In  the  New  Social  Order  he  will  be  rewarded 
pioportionately  to  his  important  function  and  need  take  no 
thought  for  his  advancing  age.  Furthermore,  he  will  be  a 
member  of  a  cori)oratioM  of  the  highest  dignity  in  the  State; 
a  coiiioration  embracing  the  teachers  in  the  most  elementary 
schools,  as  well  as  the  professors  in  the  various  universities — 
genuine  universities  for  untrammelled  scientific  investigaticm 
in  all  departments — and  whose  directors,  superioi's  and  repre- 
sentatives in  the  National  Boat d  of  Administration  we  sliall 
suppose  elected  and  dismissed  exactly  as  they  will  be  in  the 
other  departments. 

This  corps  of  educators  will  have  in  their  exclusive  charge 
the  whole  education  from  top  to  bottom  and  all  scientific  in- 
vestigations. They  will  be  perfectly  untrammelled,  for  such 
a  system  will  enable  them  to  say  to  all  charlatans  in  their  (ic- 
partment  as  the  bakers,  artisans  and  agriculturists  can  say 
in  theirs:  '"  mind  your  own  business,  sir  I  You  are  not  com- 
petent to  say  aught  in  this  matter." 

There  is  not  the  smallest  reason  to  fear  that  this  will  result 
in  any  si)iritual  t3'ramiy,  for  tlie  infhience  of  this  theoretic 
body  ol  men  is  sure  to  be  counteracted  by  that  Public  Opinion 


EDUCATION.  227 

of  tlic  practical  majority  which  we  saw  will  be  of  extraordi- 
naiy  force  in  the  (Joniin.i^  Coninionwealth  We  ought  ratlier 
to  hail  such  a  sti-ouii:  and  independent  organization  of  a  class, 
devoted  to  the  cultivation  of  knowledge,  as  a  healthy  counter- 
poise to  that  Public  Opinion.  We  may  also  suggest  that  t!ie 
present  tendency  of  founding  universities  in  every  section 
and  almost  every  State  of  our  coimtry  (though  so  fiir  it  has 
generally  only  lesidted  in  founding  university  biUldings)  may 
be  the  sowing  of  germs  of  many  different  centres  of  science 
under  the  Mew  Order,  and  thus  contribute,  as  it  has  iu  Gei- 
manj'.to  intellectual  freedom  and  aii-sidedness. 

Then,  and  not  till  then,  W(>  can  begin  to  liave  anj'thing  that 
deserves  the  name  of  education.  Then,  as  we  have  noticed 
several  times,  we  shall  have  arrived  at  the  true  starting  point 
of  the  O)opcrative  Commonwealth.  It  will  thus  be  seen  that, 
even  if  all  the  conditions  were  ripe  tomoiTow  for  the  inaugu- 
ration of  the  New  Order,  we  could  not  hope  to  do  anything 
more  in  the  gen'^ration,  then  living,  than  lay  the  foundation, 
deeply  and  firmly,  for  its  upbuilding;  among  otiier  things  by 
training  capable  persons  belonging  to  the  second  generation 
to  be  the  educators  of  the  third— to  h-ive  charge  <>f  this  thu-d 
generation /;'0?w  its  earliest  infancy  till  it  reaches  the  adiiH  ofjo. 

Consider  how  many,  many  children  are  novv  sent  into  the 
world  at  an  age.  when  those  of  wealthy  parents  are  still  iu 
the  nursery;  consider  that  the  average  time  children  attend 
school  is  in  our  cities  but/fe.  and  outside  our  cities  Imt  throe 
5'ears;  consivler  that  such  an  "enlightened"  state  as  Massachu- 
setts requires  only  a  yearlj'  school-attendance  of  twcnty-Vjceks 
of  her  children  under  fifteen  years;  consider  that  in  spite  of 
this  law  25.000  of  her  chikiren  never  have  seen  the  inside  of  a 
school-room;  consider  that  10.000  inftmts  under  ten  years  are 
woiking  in  the  factories  of  that  same  enlightened  State ;  *  consid- 
er that  all  overour  couutrj\  with  a/Z  our  children,  schooling 
stops  when  the  thinking  process  really  first  conmiei'.ces.  and 
is  it  any  wonder  that  our  educational  results  arc  wretched? 

AVhy!  the  sixteenth,  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  years  con- 

*  For  these  facts  see  an  article  on  '*■  Children's  Labor  *'  in  At- 
lantic Monthly,  December,  1880. 


228  EDUCATION. 

Bi'tiite  the  most  criticil  period  of  a  boy's  life,  and  left  to  him- 
solf  he  is.  dnriiis:  those  years  and  until  he  become  restrained 
by  experience,  really  one  of  the  most  daii2:or<)ns  members  of 
Society.  Tliat  these  boys  turn  out  to  be  as  noble  men  as  many  of 
tliem  do  is  a  sufficient  I )roof  of  the  Inherent  ofoodness  of  human 
nature.  But  when  the  New  Order  has  arrived,  we  shall  be  unan- 
imous in  acknowledijinu;  that  restraint  is  just  needed  as  a  sort 
of  astringent,  to  give  maximum  of  power.  We  shall  have 
learned  tliat  a  young  man  who  is  kept  under  close  and  contin- 
ued discipline  of  proper  persons  till  twenty-one  is  sure  to  have 
a  more  vigorous  and  original  character  than  one  left  to  its  own 
devices  at  an  age  when  mind  is  yet  unformed.  And  as  far 
as  our  girls  are  concerned  we  shall  yet  sooner  have  learned  a 
similar  lesson. 

You  will  very  likely  doubt  that  such  a  radical  change  will 
take  place  here  where,  preeminently,  it  is  the  practice  to  leave 
the  young  men  and  women  to  shift  for  themselves.  In  the 
same  way  many  doubts  might  have  been  raised  as  to  the  suc- 
cess of  the  common  school  system,  judging  from  the  opposi- 
tion to  it  from  so  mnny  quarters  at  its  introduction.  Yet 
nearly  all  parents  now  avnil  themselves  of  it,  di'iven  by  an  un- 
conscious impulse.  And  so.  when  tlie  Great  Change  occurs, 
novelties  will  soon  become  fiimiliar. 

But  the  greatest  novelty  will  be  the  new  ideal  of  education. 

'i'hat  is  the  only  matter  left  us  to  consider.  We  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  what  will  be  taught  or  how  to  teach  it.  That 
we  for  our  part  shall  leave  to  the  competent;  already  too  many 
amateurs  have  had  their  say  on  that  subject.  But  even  those 
now  most  qualified  would  be  incompetent  to  frame  a  curricu- 
lum for  our  future  schools,  for  the  ideal  of  education  now  will 
bj"  no  means  be  the  ideal  of  the  Coming  Commonwealth. 

The  ideal,  the  end  souv'lit  to  be  attained,  now  of  education 
is  to  enable  the  individital  to  achieve  success  in  life,  to  gd  the 
hettrr  of  their  fellowmen  in  the  struggle  for  the  good  things  of 
this  world.  That  is  the  meaning  of  Individualism.  No  mat- 
ter that  in  the  nature  of  tilings  but  few  can  achieve  that  suc- 
cess, and  that  those  who  do  succeed  generally  at  the  end  of 


EDUCATION.  229 

their  career  consider  their  siicctjss  not  worth  the  trouble,  that 
teacher  is  coasidcred  tliebest  vvlio  best  knows  !iow  t)  qualify  his 
pupils  for  the  battle  of  life.  Tliat  is  why  teachers  stimuhxte 
the  ''ambition''  of  their  scholars  with  prizes,  marks,  relative 
places  in  the  school-room  &c.  That  is  also  why  they  cram 
their  pupils  with  facts  and  commoi.-places  of  received  opin- 
ions and  persist  in  tcachiii<jj  them  Latin  and  Greek  so  that  tliey 
may  afterward  quote  classical  extracts  for  the  sake  of  eflect. 

The  end  to  be  attained  by  educatiou  iu  the  Coming  Com- 
monwealth will  be  a  verj'  different  one.  It  likewise  will  be 
to  qualify  the  pupils  for  the  battle  of  life,  but  against  nature 
aud  ill  accord  icith  their  felloics.  That  is  the  meaning  of  Social 
Cooperation. 

In  that  Commonwealth  prizes  will  not  be  used,  because  tiiey 
only  excite  a  few  while  leaving  the  mass  phlegmatic;  thoy 
will  be  condemuid  as  anU-socia' .  Perhaps  in  t  heir  place  the 
educators  will  have  recourse  to  Bentham's  suggestion  of  a 
scholar-jury,  scholar-suffrage,  leaving  it  to  the  scholars  them- 
selves to  determine  by  their  votes  the  relative  position  of  each 
other  in  the  school-room.  That  will  be  a  proper  extension  of 
the  suffrage  and  will  bring  home  to  the  minds  of  the  pupils, 
that  all  suffrage  is  a  trust. 

Conformably  to  that  new  ideal  the  scholars  will  be  impressed 
with  gratitude  for  the  blessings  which  all  past  generations 
have  conferred  upon  them,  and  it  will  be  urged  upon  them 
that  they  owe  all  to  Societ3^ 

They  will  be  taught  how  to  utilize  all  the  sources  of  happiness 
which  Nature  and  the  Commonwealth  supply,  for  the  New 
Order  will  want  them  to  have  many  tastes  and  needs. 

But  especially  will  they  be  taught  to  perform  well  their 
functions  in  Society. 

It  will  by  that  time  be  fully  known,  that  a  man  trained  for 
one  subject  only  never  becomes  a  good  judge  in  that  one,  even, 
whereas  enlightenment  and  enlargement  of  his  circle  gives 
him  increased  power  and  knowledge  in  a  rapidl}'  increased 
ratio.  Therefore  a  harmonious  and  balanced  cultivation  of 
all  the  faculties  will  be  the  first  object.  The  pupils  will  be 
taught  all  that  is  known,  and  though  that  field  seems  immense 


230  EDUCATION. 

they  will  easil}''  master  it,  for  they  will  be  led  to  the  bottom  of 
thiiii^s  and  learn  the  fundamental  laws  and  the  couneetion  of 
phenomena.  They  will  be  profound  and  complete  human  be- 
iiisrs,  all  of  them.  We  are  tending  more  and  more  in  that  di- 
rection ;  that  is  vvh}-  such  incomplete  men  and  women,  as  Pu- 
ritans and  Quakers,  have  hardly  any  of  their  old-time  influence 
left. 

Again,  a  great  deal  will  be  done  in  order  to  find  «»iit  the  pe- 
culiar fitness  of  every  child.  Now  next  to  nothing  is  done  to 
discover  the  natural  aptitude  of  children,  or  to  substitute  choice 
for  chance  in  the  allotment  of  the  various  social  functions. 
And  so  it  may  be  said  that  the  mistake  which  all  teachers  make 
is  to  teach  the  same  lesson  in  the  same  way  to  all. 

But  Goethe  suggests  in  the  second  volume  of  his  Wilhelm 
Meister^  that  every  human  being  is  born  into  the  world  with  a 
particular  talent  of  some  kind  or  other.  In  his  opinion,  it  is 
only  requisite  to  recognize  that  particular  talent  in  the  childi 
and  foster  it.  in  order  to  develop  all  its  other  faculties,  and 
that,  if  that  talent  be  not  found  out  and  developed,  it  is  the 
fault  ot  the  educator.  lie  grounds  this  suggestion  of  his  on 
the  well-known  pedagogic  experience.,  that  a  teacher  can  suc- 
ceed with  even  the  dullest  child,  as  soon  as  he  manages 
to  win  its  interest  for  some  object,  whatever  it  may 
be;  in  other  words  as  soon  as  he  succeeds  in  discovering 
the  drift  of  that  inborn  talent  in  the  child.  As  soon,  then,  as  a 
scholar  is  incited  to  voluntary  activit}'  and  llnds  out  that  he 
is  able  to  accomplish  something  in  some  one  direction,  it  would 
be  comparatively  easy  to  awaken  his  sell-conlidence,  so  that 
he  will  succeed  in  other  respects.  This  special  talent  thus  in- 
sures the  possibility  that  ever;/  healthy  chila^  male  and  female, 
may  have  all  its  human  facidties  hai-moniously  developed. 

Now  we  do  not  say,  that  it  is  remarkable  that  educators  have 
hitherto  been  entirely  deaf  to  this  important  hint — for  it  is 
not,  considering  the  present  ideal  of  education — but  we  can- 
not help  here  to  notice  that  an  obscure  teacher  in  Iloboken, 
N.  J.,  Dr.  Adolph  Dnuai,  who,  were  the  New  Commonwealth 
now  in  existence,  wouhl  undoubteilly  be  found  in  the  front 
rank  of  its  leading  minds,  lias  been  the  first  and  only   profes- 


EDUCATION.  231 

Bioiial  educator  who  publicly  has  called  attention  to  this  sug 
gestion.  We  may  be  sure  that  the  Coming  Commonwealth, 
which  can  only  furnish  the  necessary  favorable  conditions  fof 
the  verillcatlon  of  this  thought,  will  not  be  slow  to  utilize  it. 
The  institutions  that  have  already  shown  themselves  specially 
adapted  to  the  discovery  and  unfolding  of  these  latent  talents 
in  children,  are  the  Kindergartens.  Though  as  yet  but  compar- 
atively few  of  them  exist  in  our  country  or  elsewhere,  those 
who  teach  in  them  have  been  able  to  discern  in  mau}-^  children 
geometrical  talent  and  aptitude  for  the  study  of  natural  sci- 
ences in  whom  otherwise  nobody  would  probably  ever  have 
suspected  them.  These  Kindergartens  the  Coop'^rative  Com- 
monwealth will  in  all  probability  establish  in  all  the  nooks 
and  corners  of  the  country,  not  to  say  in  every  family,  as  the 
first  and  most  important  link  in  the  chain  of  its  educational 
institutions. 

Mr.  Bain  in  his  treatise  on  Education  makes  an  important 
obsei"vation  which  is  pertinent  here:  "If  from  the  beginning 
one  can  interpolate  five  shades  of  discrimination  of  color  where 
another  can  feel  but  one  transition,  the  careers  of  the  two  can 
be  foreshadowed  as  widely  apart.  To  observe  this  native  in- 
equality is  important  in  predestining  the  child  to  this  or  that 
lino  of  special  training." 

This  observation  and  predestination  will  be  made  in  the  Kin- 
dergartens, where  also  a  taste  for  manual  work  will  be  imbibed 
at  a  very  early  age.  Thereafter  we  suppose  general  educatiou 
and  special  training  will  accompany  each  other,  under  the  eye 
of  the  teacher,  till  the  child  reaches  adult  age.  We  judge  so, 
not  merely  from  considering  the  natural  requirements  of  the 
Commonwealth,  but  from  observing  the  various  attempts  that 
now  are  being  made  to  find  a  substitut<»  for  that  slavish  and 
wasteful  apprentice-system  which  happily  is  a  thing  of  the 
past,  by  founding  industrial  schools,  so-called  "developing 
schools,"  and  trying  to  make  them  a  part  of  oui*  common- 
school  system. 

We  do  not  know  whether  this  hypothesis  of  Goethe,  that  all 
nonral  men  are  capable  of  being  educated  up  to  the  same 
level  of  intelligence  and  kuowletlge,  is  true  or  not.     We  know 


232  EDUCATION. 

of  no  fact  tliat  militates  against  it,  but  think  there  are  many 
facts  tliat  conlirm  it.  At  all  events,  only  the  Interdependent 
Conmionwealth  can  furnish  the  necessary  condilions  for  its 
vorilication.  Should  it  be  found  true,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  it 
will  prove  of  trinscendant  significance  as  it  will  lay  the  foun- 
dation for  that  perfect,  absolute  cqualitu  which  is  the  ideal  of 
Socialism — and  yet,  mark  what  an  unlikeuess^  what  a  variety 
there  will  be ! 

As  the  boys  will  be  really  educated,  so  the  girls  will  be.  In 
the  New  Commonwealth  tlic)'  will  no  longer  be  trained  to 
please  the  man-fool,  or  acquire  only  accomplishments  which 
give  fullest  scope  to  vanity,  luxury  and  passion.  No.  they 
will  be  equally  fitted  for  their  appropriate  functions  as  mem- 
bers of  society,  as  wives  and  mothers,  in  institutions  adapted  for 
them.  The  latter  qualltication  is  important,  for  the  motto  which 
is  the  prominent  characteristic  of  tlie  modern  American  school- 
system,  that  ""boys'  and  girls'  schools  should  be  one,  and 
that  one  the  boys'  will  surely  be  rejected  by  the  Com- 
ing Commonwealth,  as  one  against  which  physiology  pro- 
tests. But  the  future  woman  will,  by  methods  and  regi- 
men adapted  to  her  sex,  reach  the  same  plane  of  knowledge 
and  intelligence  as  man  and  in  that  way  become  his  equal  and 
true  companioji.  We  shall  then  surely  have  complete  men  and 
complete  women. 

But  how  can  the  State,  when  once  it  has  taken  charge  of 
education,  draw  a  line  where  education  ends  and  moral  indif- 
ference begins? 

The  great  need  of  the  age  is  to  organize,  diifuse  and  assim- 
ilate that  which  is  known.  Humanity,  indeed,  does  not  now  so 
much  need  more  Isolated  hicts,  as  to  understand  how  all  these 
facts  are  related  to  each  other,  and  most  of  all,  it  needs  to  have 
that  deeper,  real  knowledge  made  common  propertj'.  Then 
tirst  we  can  enjoy  all  the  fruits  of  the  tree  of  knowledge. 
Then,  more  particularly,  we  shall  again  reach  a  substantial 
agreement  of  opinion  as  to  this  Universe  in  which  we  live, 
what  it  means  and  what  therefore  is  the  part  we  ought  to 
play  in  it.  The  anarchy  of  o])inion  of  this  transitory  age  is 
^  an  enormous  evil.    Unity  of  belief  is  the  normal  condition  of 


EDUCATION.  233 

the  hnmau  intellect;  it  is  just  as  natural  for  healthy  men  to    / 
think  and  believe  alike,  as  it  is  for  healthj-  men  to  see  alike. 

When  one  harmonious  sentiment  thrills  through  the  whole 
of  Society,  we  may  expect  a  revival  of  the  aestlietic  sense  of 
ancient  Greece.  This  Gilded  Age  with  its  so-called  ''  promoters 
of  the  arts"  create  prostitutes  of  art.  wlio  exercise  it,  not  for 
lov^e  of  it,  but  to  •'  make"  monej^by  it.  Imagine  if  you  can, 
a  Raphael  painting  a  Madonna,  or  Pliidias  sculpturing  an 
Aphrodite  for — profit!  Art  always  is  prostituted,  when  it 
only  serves  the  vanitj'  of  the  rich.  In  the  present  age  poets  do 
not  sing  for  the  masses,  artists  do  not  fashion  their  master- 
pieces for  the  masses  as  during  the  Christian  Middle  Ages  or 
in  classical  Greece  and  IJome. 

In  Athens  the  whole  i^eople  in  the  amphitheatre  witnessed 
the  spectacles,  here — how  different  it  is !  We  have  expensive 
theatres  where  our  comfortable  classes  can  idle  away  their 
time,  but,  as  Beecher  says,  they  are  not  for  the  f>oor.  The 
theatre  to  which  the  poor  have  entrance  is  perhaps  the  most 
vitiating  of  all  social  institutions.  If  there  is  anything  that 
needs  the  helping,  the  reforming  hand  of  the  Commonwealth 
^xe  should  say  it  is  the  stage.  It  can  be  made  the  mightiest  ed- 
ucational instrument.  In  particul.'ir.  manners  and  address  can 
be  learned  to  perfection  in  the  theatre,  and  only  there. 

MatthewArnold  says,  pointedly  :  "  A  handful  of  Athenians 
of  two  thousand  years  ago  are  more  interesting  than  millions 
of  our  contemporary  nations — because  thf'y  present  us  the 
spectacle  of  a  cultured  joeop^e.  It  was  the  many  in  the  highest 
development  of  their  humanit}' ;  the  mamj  wdio  relished  these 
arts  and  were  satisfied  with  nothing  less  than  those  monu- 
ments." 

So  in  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  where  care  is  forev<T 
banished  art  will  once  more  belong  in  the  midst  of  the  people, 
because  of  its  eminently  educational  importance.  lie  who 
has  learned  to  appreciate  the  Beautiful  will  never  after  have  a 
taste  for  the  Low.  Art  will  re-enter  into  the  oj)en  arena  of 
life. 

But  the  greatest  effect  of  this  common  education  and  com- 
mon opinion  will  be  the  feeling  of  a  common  duty. 


J 


CHAPTER  XII. 


MORALS  IN  THE    COOPEKATIVE    COMMONT\  EALTH. 


*' Ethics  are  the  finest  fruits  of  humanity  but  not  its  roots." 

Mallodc's  Neio  Bepublic. 

"^lan  has  it  in  liis  power  by  liis  vobuitary  actions  to  aid  tlie 
intentions  of  Providence,  but  to  learn  those  intentions  he  must 
consider  wliat  tends  to  promote  the  general  good." 

John  S.  3Iill. 

'^Mnnkind.  without  any  common  bond,  any  unity  of  aim, 
bent  upon  liappiness,  has  sougiit  each  and  all  to  tread  their 
ow  1  paths,  little  heedino^  if  they  trampled  upon  the  bo('ies  of 
their  -brothers"  ia  name,  enemies  intact.  This  is  the  state 
ot  things  we  have  reached  today." — Mazzini. 

"We  have  said  that  socialism,  considered  as  simply  an  econ- 
omic system,  will  have  a  great. influence,  also,  on  morals — that 
is  to  say,  it  will  greatly  affect  our  relations  to  what  is  ••  right" 
and  ''  wrong,"  •'•  good"  and  *•  bad,"  '•''  moral  "  and  ••  immoral" 
and,  though  there  is  really  no  such  thing  as  Socialist  morals^ 
may  even  affect  our  conceptions  of  what  is  '"right"  and 
'•wrong." 

We  have  hitherto  avoided,  and  pretty  successfully  we  think, 
all  commonplaces,  all  words  involved  in  mist.  'I'he  above  ethi- 
cal terms  are,  however,  such  commonplaces.  In  order  to  bogin, 
rigiit  at  the  stnrt.  to  clear  away  the  mist,  we  cannot  do  better 
than  quote  George  Eliot: 

"•  Let  a  CO  itractor  enrich  himself  by  making  pasteboard  solet 


MORALS.  235 

pass  as  leather  for  the  feet  of  unhappy  soldiers;  let  a  spec- 
ulator letire  to  private  life  on  ten  th(>usaiKl  a  year  after  cheat- 
ing widows  and  hardworking  fathers  of  all  their  savings,  you 
often  hear  charming  women  pity  su<hmen,  when  they  come 
to  grief,  and  exclaim  :  ^  lie  is  a  thoroughly  moral  man,'  mean- 
ing thereby,  tiiat  he  is  not  a  drunkard  or  a  debauchee.  *  *  * 
Is  not  this  misuse  of  the  word  •*  Morals*'  a  reason,  why  the 
ablest  intellects  are  supposed  to  look  on  morals  as  a  sort  of 
twaddle  for  bibs  and  tuckers,  as  a  mere  incident  of  human 
stupidity?'' 

Now,  to  be  sure,  the  economic  changes  which  we  have  con- 
sidered will  contribute  vastly  to  the  establishment  of  what  we 
call  the  decencies. 

Drunkenness,  i.  e.  the  habit  of  excessive  drinking,  which 
our  social  ••reformers"  pronounce  the  cause  ot  almost  all 
evil,  is  to  the  philosophic  mind  nothing  but  an  effect,  especial- 
ly an  effect  of  care.  When  care  is  banished,  we  may  be  sure 
that  drunkenness  will  be  banisned  also.  It  is  absiu-d  to  sup- 
pose that  a  happy  young  man  will  go  and  get  drunk  more  than 
once.  Bear  also  in  mind,  that  when  the  New  Commonwealth 
takes  charge  of  the  liquor  traffic  the  dispensers  of  beer  and 
liquor  will  no  longer  have  an  interest  in  the  quantities  sold, 
and  none  but  pure  and  wliolesome  products  will  be  sold. 

As  to  sexual  irregularities  we  can  say,  that  they  will  hardly 
be  heard  of  as  soon  as  woman  is  put  in  a  position  to  spurn  the 
bribes  of  man,  and  as  soon  as  every  young  pair  can  marry 
without  any  fear  of  consequences. 

But  it  is  far  from  us  to  limit  ''Morals"  to  this  slirunken 
meaning.  To  explain  what  we  mean  then  by  the  words  ''right" 
and  "■•  wrong"  let  us  illustrate: 

Men  for  thousands  of  years  used  the  words  ''up"  and  "down" 
with  reference  to  themselves,  and  the  consequence  was  confu- 
sion :  what  was  '•  up  "  to  one  in  one  place  was  "  down  "  to  him 
in  another  place.  It  is  only  a  few  hundred  j^ears  back'  that 
we  commenced  to  comprehend  the  real,  the  scicntijic  meaning 
of  these  terms:  that  ''down"  means  towards  the  cen- 
tre of   the  earth,    "  up "  away  from  that  centre,  and  that 


236  MORALS. 

to  one  suspendecl  in  space  there  is  absolutely  no  "  up  "  and  n« 
•'  down." 

In  the  same  way  thcolo^^ians  presumed  to  tell  mankind  that 
"  good  "  and  *'  bad  ''  actions  were  to  be  judged  from  their  ef- 
fects upon  the  destiny  of  the  actor.  '•  Sins  "  tliat  were  scarlet 
could  therefore  under  certain  circumstance  be  made  white  lilve 
snow. 

Science,  and  with  it  Socialism,  which  bases  itself  on  the  ver- 
ities of  things,  teaches  that  there  would  be  no  moraliry  at  all 
if  man  did  not  need  his  fellowniun;  that  '-right"  and  *•  wrong*' 
have  reforence.  primaril}'.  not  to  the  individual  actor, but  to  that 
greater  organism,  called  Sometif. 

Gambling  is  wrong,  is  immoral,  not  because  it  tends  to  the 
ruin  of  the  gambler,  but  because  he  cannot  win  unless  some- 
body los3s ;  because  gambling,  ihus,  sears  the  sympathies 
and,  therefore,  is  essentially  anti  social. 

^'Rioht*' is  every  conduct  which  tends  to  the  welfare  of 
Society :  ••  wrong  "  what  obstructs  that  welfare.  Bad  actions 
are  no  longer  *•  sins,''  but  *'  crimes,"  and  crimes  can  never  be 
white  as  snow. 

Now,  human  beings  have  already  learned  by  experience  that 
they  must  act  in  a  certain  way  under  penalty  of  being  unable 
to  act  together  at  all ;  tliat  Society  could  not  e.d>it  at  all  with- 
out Integrity;  that  it  could  not  progress  without  Si/mpathy. 
We  may  call  integrity  the  basis  and  sympathy  the  crown  of 
Morals. 

It  will  be  seen  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  absolute, 
unchangeable  morality.  The  different  stages  in  the  progress 
of  Society  evidently  require  different  standards;  what  was 
right  at  one  period  may  be  eminentl3'  wrong  at  a  later  period. 
Thus  if  Slavery  was,  indeed,  the  first  necessary  step  of  our 
civilization,  the  first  lesson  in  cooperation,  we  must  pronounce 
Slavery  to  have  been  right  then — and  the  fact  that  the  best 
men  of  antiquity:  Socrates.  .Tesus,  Aristotle,  acquiesced  in  it 
tends  to  prove  it  so — however  wrong  it  appears  in  the  light  of 
a  higlier  morality.  It,  also,  will  be  seen,  that  morals  is  truly 
a  science,  a  very  subtle  science,  as  it  involves  a  correct  phil- 
osophy of  Society,  its  tendencies  and  destiny.    Is  it  any  won- 


MORALS.  237 

der  that  morals  has  hithorto  been  a  tissue  of  rhetorical 
and  emotional  commonplaces?  Kefore  anybody  can  sa^ 
what  is  "right"  conduct,  and  whether  he  is  a  truly''  moral" 
man  or  not.  lie  must  possess  all  the  knowledge  and  mental  de- 
velopment which  we  have  assumed  will  be  the  portion  of  everj'- 
body  when  the  New  Soci.il  Order  is  in  full  swing. 

Dur  to  know  what  is  •*  right "  is  only  one  side  of  the  great  sub- 
ject, rather  the  reverse  than  its  front  side. 

The  writer  of  this  once  listened  to  a  very  interesting  lecture 
b}'  Carroll  D.  Wright,  the  head  of  the  Labor-bureau  of  Alassa- 
chusetrs  on  "our  factory  system,"  the  leadingthought  of  which 
was,  that  our  imlustrlal  system  would  be  unobjectionable  if 
both  parties,  employers  and  employes,  would  only  go  dovu 
to  the  foundation  and  be  led  by  morality  and  religion. 
Therein  lurks  a  fundamental  mistake,  Col.  Wright! 
Morals  are  not  the  foundation,  still  less  religion.  They  are 
the  top  of  our  system.  Interest — Self-interest — is  the  fowida- 
tion^  the  prime  motor ^  the  mainspring  of  our  actions ;  so  it  is, 
has  always  been,  and  will  always  be. 

"'  Why  should  /do  this  thing  ?"  '"  why  should  /  not  gam- 
ble?" has  alwaj^'s  been  the  great  practical  question,  and  not 
'•is  gambling  \vrong?"  It  is  easy  enough  to  gain  intellectual 
assent  to  a  moral  precept,  but  the  trouble  is  that  a  man  is 
never  tempted  by  things  in  the  abstract,  but  when  he  does 
something  wrong  he  does  it  for  the  sake  of  some  particular, 
concrete  thing. 

There  is  then  the  greatest  possible  diflference  between  end  of 
and  motive  to  morality :  and  nothing  is.  not  even  the  most  self- 
sacriticingacts  are,  done  without  a  motive.  That  which  moves 
must  be  primary.  Now,  Col.  Wright  I  it  is  not  our  morality 
or  want  of  morality  which  makes  our  economic  relations  what  / 
they  are,  but  our  economic  system  that  makes  our  morality 
what  it  is. 
That  is  the  hinge  on  which  this  chapter  turns. 

In  former  chapters  we  have  analyzed  our  economic  relations. 
Let  us  now  see  how  it  stands  with  our  integrity  and  note  the 
relation  there  is  between  it  and  our  economic  system. 


238  MORALS. 

First  in  order  come  the  so-called  crimes  against  property. 
Robbery,  bnrsjlary,  larceny,  embezzlement,  common  swind- 
lin<?,  murder  and  arson,  when  committed  in  pursuit  of  wealth 
(and  it  is  only  in  that  connection  we  here  have  to  consider 
them,)  are  all  acknowledged  otfences  against  Society.  And 
probably  no  one  doubts  that  there  are  more  such  crimes  com- 
mitted now  than  in  any  torm«'r  Jige.  To  take  one  instance  as 
illustration  :  For  a  merchant  to  become  bankrupt  was  form- 
erly a  life-long  disgrace;  now  bankruptcies  are  so  frequent, 
that  they  are  considered  mere  incidents  of  "business"  and 
are  facilitated  by  law.  It  may  be  said  that  there  are  more  oppor- 
tunities for  committing  such  crimes,  but  what  we  here  want 
to  make  clear  is  the  simple  fact,  that  these  crimes  are  more  fre- 
quent now,  i:i  proportion  to  the  population,  than/,  i.  during 
the  Middle  Ages — no  matter  how  it  comes. 

But  now  we  arrive  at  the  first  point  that  we  wish  to  make. 
Such  practices  as  those  above  mentioned  are  the  only  ones 
which  we  of  this  age  stigmatize  as  cnwcs :  we  call  by  that 
name  only  acts  that  may  bring  their  perpetrators  into  the  peni- 
tentiary. Ought  not,  in  view  of  the  philosophic  definition  of 
'•right"  ami  ••  wrong"  conduct,  every  grievous  offence  against 
Societ}^  be  so  called?  To  be  sure,  in  that  case  most  of  the 
leaders  of  our  self-styled  *•'  society"  may  come  to  be  reckoned 
as  criminals. 

Henry  Ward  Beecher  once  told  his  congregation  of  mer- 
chants, bankers,  politicians  and  speculators :  ''the  laws  against 
larceu}'^  have  no  relations  to  me.  I  am  on  too  high  a  plane  to 
be  affected  by  any  temptation  to  steal."  In  other  words: 
''Thank  God,  that  I  and  you.  dear  brethren  and  sisters,  are 
not  on  a  plane  with  that  rabble  that  commit  crimes  against 
property ! " 

Are  they  on  a  higher  plane? 

Herbert  Spencer  has  shown,  that  Trade  in  England  is  essen- 
tially corrupt  and  that  there  success  in  business  has  become 
incomiKitible  with  strict  integrity.  It  is  certainly  not  better 
here.  Are  the  tricks  of  trade  not  offences  against  Society? 
Is  ••commercial  cannibalism,"  as  Spencer  calls  it,  not  a  crime? 


MORALS.  230 

Adulteration  of  provisions  has  everywhere  become  a  socifi' 
institution.     Is  that  not  ii  crime? 

Are  the  traps  ingeniously  devised  by  speculators  for  the 
punishment  of  ignorance  in  people  of  small  n)eaus,  are  the 
corners  gotten  uj)  in  money,  stock,  wheat  and  pork  not  crimes? 

Our  late  income-tax  was  repealed  for  the  avowed  reason, 
that  it  coidd  not  be  collected,  becatise  our  rich  men  were  far 
moie  ready  to  swear  falsely,  than  to  hand  over  a  small  per- 
centage of  their  vast  incomes.  Were  these  rich  men  not  crim- 
inals? 

It  is  a  fact,  that  directors  of  gigantic  corporations  so  man- 
ipulate things,  that  the  public  is  taxed  heavily  to  pay  divi- 
dends on  '"watered"  stocks.  Are  these  men  less  guilty,  be- 
cause powerful? 

It  is  notorious,  that  our  politicians  are  corru|)t  from  top  to 
bottom.  Even  if  too  '•high-toned*'  to  debauch  voters,  in  per- 
son, they  are  ready  enough  to  raise  corruption-funds,  and  , 
never  squeamish  as  to  protiting  by  the  bribery.  Are  these  "emi- 
nent citizens'*  on  "too  high  a  plane"  even  according  to  the 
ethical  code  of  to-day? 

But  we  shall  have  to  go  a  good  deal  farther;  we  cannot  af- 
ford to  compromise.  In  morals  there  is  no  difference  between 
•" legitimate '■  and  ••illegitimate"  offences  against  Society. 
Everyone  who  pockets  gains  without  rendering  an  equivalent  to  So- 
ciet'j  is  a  criminal. 

Every  milllDuaire  is  a  criminal. 

Ever}^  one  who  amasses  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  is  a 
crimina  1. 

Every  president  of  a  company  with  nominal  duties,  if  hia 
salary  is  but  a  thousand  dollars,  is  a  criminal. 

Everyone  who  loans  his  neighbor  ^100  and  exacts  $1()G  ia 
return  is  a  criminal. 

Again,  it  is  a  fact,  that  the  mere  transfer  of  products  is  a 
very  low  order  of  labor,  requiring  only  the  most  oi-dinary  and 
inferior  kind  of  mental  qualities,  which,  if  it  received  simply 
an  equivalent  in  return,  would  be  allowed  but  the  very  lowest 
compensation.  Yet  it  is  that  very  mercantile  class  which  ab- 
sorbs all  the  wealth  by  every  available  form  of  deception  and 


240  MORALS. 

Strategy,  while  a  thoroughly  skilled  artisan  cannot  possibly 
amaso  a  large  competence  by  the  diligent  prosecution  of  liis 
trade.  Tliis  whole  mercantile  cl.iss  is  a  criminal  class  in  re- 
gard to  by  far  the  largest  part  of  their  income;  one  of  our 
really  dangerous  classes — and  the  same  applies  to  their  cousins, 
the  tinancial  class. 

It  is  damnable  hypocrisy  in  these  mere  dealers  in  products 
and  financiers  when  they  pretend  to  any  extraordinary  ""exec- 
utive ability;"  they  know  in  their  hearts,  that  they  have 
but  very  little  ability,  very  little  skill. 

It  is  hypocrisy,  when  the  poor  mechanic  who  by  superior 
skill  produces  all  the  wealth  of  the  world  is  taught  to  look  up 
to  those  who  only  handle  his  products. 

The  whole  integrity  of  our  rulers  can  be  summed  up  in  one 
word:  cash -payment. 

Our  mechanics  and  artisans  cannot  be  filled  with  too  much 
righteous  hate  against  such  shams. 

And  what  about  integrity  in  WORK?  Well,  it  is  bad  at  the 
start  that  the  duty  of  doing  one's  proper  work  well  is  entirely  left 
out  of  ''morals"  in  popular  speech.  And  yet  it  is  by  work 
that  man  takes  his  place  among  the  creative  forces  of  the  uni- 
verse. As  has  been  well  said :  ''  Thoroughness  of  workman- 
ship, care  in  the  execution  of  every  task  undertaken,  as  if  it 
wero  the  acceptance  of  a  trust  which  it  would  be  a  breach  of 
faith  not  to  discharge  well,  is  a  form  of  duty  so  momentous, 
that  if  it  were  to  die  out  from  the  feeling  and  practice  of  a 
people  national  prosperity  and  happiness  would  be  gone." 

The  absence  of  such  integrity  is  a  most  conspicious  feature 
in  the  operations  of  modern  industiy,  and  is  the  most  lament- 
able fact  of  all.  It  was  not  so  during  the  despised  AJiddle 
Ages.  Then  every  artisan  felt  a  pride  in  his  skill  and  in  turn- 
ing out  good  work.  Now  shoddy  work  is  abounding.  It  has 
3onic  out  in  the  investigations  of  the  Trades-Unions  in  Eng- 
land, that  the  men  are  required  by  their  masters  to  *'  scamp  " 
their  vvork,  that  is.  turn  out  inferior  work  and  thatthi-:  is  just 
the  reason  wiiy  the  masters  are  so  determined  to  introduce 
piecework  instead  of  daywork. 

Such  is  our  integrity — the  basis  of  our  morals.    This  was 


MORALS.  241 

the  first  point  which  it  was  necessary  to  establish  :  that  our 
'•best  people"  are  criiniuals.  If  they  themselves  do  not 
know  it,  it  is  simply  because  their  understandin.ir  is  being 
cloiiilcd  by  their  interests  and  the  opportunities  of  tlie  system. 

If  this  hypocritiu  age  should  frankly  enunciate  its  moral 
code,  it  would  say  : 

Thou  and  thine  may  keep  whatever  thou  canst  get. 

Carlyle  has  illustrated  this  in  a  drastic  manner.  He  makes 
one  pig  ask  another : 

*•  What  is  justice?" 

'•  Your  own  share  of  the  general  swine' s-trough  ;  not  any 
portion  of  my  share." 

"'•  But  what  is  *•  my'  share?" 

''  Ah,  there  is  the  rub  upon  which  piggism  can  settle  abso- 
lutely nothing.  My  share?  Humph!  M\' share  is,  on  the 
whole,  whatever  I  can  contrive  to  get,  without  getting  hanged 
or  sent  to  the  hulks. *' 

Now  we  come  to  our  second  point:  how  is  ir  that  we  have 
so  far  attained  to  this  low  level  of  integrity?  Why  do  people 
steal,  and  rob  and  embezzle? 

We  claimed  in  the  preceding  chapter,  that  ignorance  is  not 
the  cause  of  such  crimes.  We  saw  there,  that  these  crimes 
are  aboimding  in  tiie  most  educated  sections  of  our  own  coun- 
try. Indeed  the  most  reprehensible  of  these  crimes  caniKtt  be  com' 
mitted  by  ignorant  persons.  True,  among  the  lowest  criminal 
class  you  lind  much  ignorance,  but  so  you  find  much  unclean- 
llness,  many  dirty  shirts,  and  frequently  no  siiirts  at  all.  You 
might,  therefore.  Just;  as  well,  perhaps  with  more  propriety  at- 
tribute crime  to  want  of  a  shirt  or  of  soap  as  to  want  of  ed- 
ucation. 

More  superficial  yet  is  it  to  attribute  the  crimes  we  now  are 
discussing  to  drunkenness,  simply  because  we  find  the  low- 
est criminals  so  often  associated  with  poor  beer  and  whiskej^ 
Drunkenness  has  very  little  to  do  with  these  crimes,  most  oj. 
whichy  in  fact.,  cannot  be  committed  but  by  sober  persons. 

Herbert  Spencer  finds  a  suflicient  reason  for  the  persistence 
and  growth  of  crime  in  the  fact,  that  the  code  of  supernatural 
ethics   which  our  forefathers  had  is  losing  its  authority,  and 


242  MORALS. 

thfi  moral  injnnctions,  given  by  it,  therefore)  more  and  more 
losing  its  s.'iiictlons.  coii])1(m1  with  thiit  otlKM'  fact,  that  while 
the  reffuhitive  system  of  our  forefathers  is  tlms  (l^c:iying.  we 
have  not  j'et  got  any  other  regulative  system  to  take  its  j)lace. 

There  is  no  doubt,  that  as  long  as  people  had  a  vivid  dread 
of  purgatory  and  liell  fire,  tliat  was  a  powerful  spur  to  good 
behavior.  Yet.  deliberate  dishonesty  and  carelessness,  so  pe- 
culiar to  human  worU  alone,  is  so  unnatural,  that  there  must 
be  a  weightier  reason  for  this  decline  of  integrity.  Aiid  then, 
we  verily  believe,  and  have  reason  to  believe,  that  every  man 
is  naturally  honest,  and  that  the  most  inveterate  thief  would 
have  remained  honest  if  there  had  not  been  some  positive  temp- 
tation to  lead  him  asti-ay.  The  decay  of  religion  can  never  bo 
more  than  a  negative  reason. 

No,  the  oily  rational  way  is  to  consider  every  such  crime  as 
an  act,  preceded  by  a  motive  which,  if  it  be  but  imperious 
enough,  it  is  not  in  human  nature  to  withstand ;  in  other  words 
to  look  upon  crime  as  essentially  human. 

And  when  you  do  that,  can  you  wonder,  that  our  jails  are 
full,  when  honest  men  are  staiving?  Is  it  strange,  that  men 
in  many  of  whom  vagrancy  has  become  a  second  nature — often 
originally  from  no  fault  of  their  own — prefer  larceny,  or  burg- 
lary or  swindling  to  toiling  ten  hours  or  more  daily  for  a  week- 
ly pittance  of -$5.00?  Is  it  anything  but  human  to  use  any 
means  to  obtain  wealth,  when  Society  h.as  made  wealth  the 
sovereign  power?  When  one  reads  in  novels  and  witnesses  in 
plays  how  the  hero  and  heroine  are  always  rewarded  by  mar- 
rying—wealth? AVhen  one  everywhere  hears  a  man,  in  ever}' 
way  no  better  than  himself,  as  *•  worth  "  so  many  thousands 
of  dollars  and  sees  him  the  admitted  superior  of  the  most 
wcrthy  of  poor  men? 

The  fact  is  our  integrity  is  simply  the  fvmt  of  onr  struggle  for 
life  against  each  other^  and  a  river  can  rise  no  higher  than  its 
source. 

The  economic  system  under  which  we  are  living  creates  all 
these  frauds,  dishorn  sties  and  this  hypocrisy.  Men  Jind  it 
to  their  advantage  to  adulterate  goods  and  to  manufacture  shod- 
dy articles;  indeed,  our  Established  Order  compels  men  to 


MORALS.  243 

SPek  their  success  in  overreacliing  others,  makes  it  .1  nuMit  iJi 
them  to  bo  irn^^erupulous.  sini]>ly  because  eY<  rybody"s  ir.ten^sts 
have  been  made  antagoiiistic  to  the  interests  of  every  oth(>r 
body.  By  this  capitalistic  sj'stem  of  ours  Society  has  been 
made  the  Imnting  ground  for  the  sliarpest  individuals. 

It  is  evident,  that  the  longer  this  system  lasts,  the  more  will 
these  evils  grow,  for  the  struggle  for  life  ;ind  success  will  be- 
come more  and  more  intense ;  wealth  will  come  more  and  more 
to  mean  power,  and  the  chase  after  wraith,  therefore,  will  be- 
come tiercer  and  more  savage.  Sermonizing  or  leetuies  on 
Moral  Philosophy  have  never  affected  and  will  never  affect 
any  state  of  mind.  Prize-essavs  against  embezzlement  will 
not  diminish  the  frequency  of  this  crime. 

No.  we  just  see  here  exemplitied  wliat  we  stated  in  another 
place.  When  our  social  order  is  to  be  changed  into  another 
social  order,  (the  case  now.  and  in  that  other  Bcepticnl 
period  before  the  introduction  of  Christianity)  the  change 
commences  from  above;  disorganization  commences  at  the 
top  :  with  religion  ;  then  it  goes  down  to  morals  and  down  to 
the  foundation,  until  the  base  has  changed  its  position ;  then,  on 
the  new  foundation,  on  the  new  economic  system,  morals  and 
reiisrion  will  be  rebuilt  anew.  Then  the  changed  economic  re- 
lations  will  furnish  new  motives  for  an  enduring  morality. 

Just  as  self-interest  now  is  eating  away  the  edges  of  morals, 
so  self-intei*est  must  build  up  morals,  and  that  the  New  Com- 
monwealth will  make  it  do.  It  will  make  it  men's  interest  to  be 
honest;  will  make  them  find  their  advantage  in  being  men  of 
integrit}',  simply  because  its  very  essence  is  making  the  inter- 
ests of  everybody  identical  with  the  interests  of  Society  and 
of  everybody  else. 

The  following  reflections  from  an  interesting  work  from 
which  we  have  quoted  before :  The  Value  of  Life,  written 
it  is  understood  by  an  eminent  scientist  of  New  York,  are  here 
very  pertinent : 

*'  It  is  no  sentimentalism.  but  the  simple  expression  of  fact 
that  the  individual  occupations  of  the  members  of  Society 
cannot  be  adequately  regulated,  as  long  as  they  are  regarded 
merely  as  the  means  for  each  of  these  persons  to  get  his  or 


244  MORALS. 

her  living.  By  a  crowd  of  official  acts,  from  the  inspection 
of  markets  to  taking  tho  census,  Society,  even  as  it  is,  expresses 
its  recognition  of  the  fact,  tliat  this  vast  mass  of  activities, 
constituting  the  'business'  of  the  comnumitj',  represents  tlie 
sum  of  its  own  vegetative  functions,  by  which  all  its  life,  from 
the  lowest  to  the  highest  plane  of  it,  is  sustained.  In  the  dis- 
charge of  theso  functions  the  mon"y  or  '  living,'  earned  by 
each  individual,  is  really  the  least  important  consideration. 
Thus  it  is  of  much  less  importance,  that  a  butcher  grow  rich 
than  tliat  the  thirty  or  fortj'^  families  he  supplies  with  meat 
receive  gO(xl  meat  at  fair  prices.  Whatever  value  attaches  to 
the  individual  life  of  the  butcher  is  multiplied  forty  times  by 
the  sum  of  those  of  his  customers;  it  is,  therefore,  their  wel- 
fare, not  his  profit  which  must  be  the  first  consideration.  In 
other  words :  The  essential  thing  is,  not  that  the  butcher  shall 
have  a  living,  still  less  be  ricn.  but  that  meM  shall  he  supplied. 
The  how  and  where  are  secondary  details,  to  be  regulated  not 
by  the  convenience  of  the  producer,  but  by  that  of  the  con- 
sumer. 

''  This  indisputable  line  of  reasoning  overturns  the  theory, 
that  work  is  performed  for  the  sake  of  the  producer,  (whose 
advantage,  indeed  is  quite  subsidiary)  and  shows,  that  it  is 
primarily  for  the  benefit  of  Society  or  some  group  of  persons 
in  it.  Of  course,  the  worker,  by  entering  into  another  group 
where  he  is  the  consumer,  finds  his  welfare  correlatively  taken 
into  account.  The  daily  business  is  thus  removed  from  the  ig- 
nominy andpettinessof  isolated  individualism  and  elevated  into 
an  honorable  function,  while  he  who  performs  it  becomes  in- 
vested with  the  dignity  of  a  public  functionary.  That  the 
worker  receives  remuneration  is  incidental — that  the  work  be 
thoroughly  done  is  so  essential,  that  it  is  inseparable  from  any 
typical  conception  of  achievement." 

That  is  it.  In  the  New  Commonwealth  the  butcher  A\ill  be 
conscious  and  satisfied  tiiat  •'  the  essential  thing  is,  not  that  he 
shall  have  a  living,  but  that  meat  shall  be  supplied."  The 
work  of  the  citizen  will  be  the  glad  perf  trmance  of  so- 
cial office,  not,  as  now.  the  mere  tribute  to  physical  necessity, 
lie  will  be  a  moral  worker,  whose  best  efforts,  best  ardor  and 


MORALS.  245 

highest  anus  will  be  drawn  out  by  the  joy  which  he  takes  hi 
his  work — in  all  but  the  lowest  work,  such  routine,  manual 
labor  as  machinery  should  remove  altogether  from  human 
hands.  He  will  soon  be  habituated  to  regard  his  wages,  not 
its  a  giaYZ  pro  gwo,  but  as  amoral  claim,  as  the  provision  made 
by  Society  to  enable  him  to  carry  on  his  labor.  The  question  . 
'•why  should  I  do  honest  work'?''  will  ^A^w  seem  just  as  ir- 
rational as  it  is  now  to  ask  "•  why  should  I  eat?" 

Most  of  the  offences  to  which  we  have  called  attention  will 
disappear,  simply  because  the  oppoi-tunities  for  committing 
theui  will  be  gone. 

And  when  in  the  Coming  Commonwealth  a  few  hours  of 
daily,  agreeable  effort  will  secure  to  everybody  all  necessaries, 
decencies  and  comforts  of  lif(!,  why  then  should  any  rational 
being  want  to  steal  or  cheat  or  rob?  And  why  should  anybody 
want  to  make  a  living  by  crime,  when  it  will  be  far  easier  to 
make  it  by  honest  work?  And  why  should  anybody  care  to 
procure  wealth  dishonestly,  when  wealth  no  longei-  will  mean 
Power  overmen?  When  wealth  will  not  be  able  to  coax  the 
meanest  of  men  to  be  your  footman  and  wear  your  livei-y? 
When  wealth  simply  will  mean  more  to  eat,  more  to  drink  and 
more  luxuries? 

In  short,  the  economic  system  of  the  Xew  Commonwealth 
will  have  two  most  important  effects  on  integrity.  First,  it  will 
institute  a  higher  moral  code  by  giving  us  a  truer  conception  of 
what  is  ••  right"  and  '  •  wrong"  conduct.  It  will  thus  make 
us  feel  that  the  man  who  charges  six  per  cent.,  or  even  one 
per  cent,  for  the  use  ot  his  money  is  just  as  much  a  criminal, 
in  principle,  as  the  highway-robber ;  that  is,  it  will  once  more 
make  us  call  all  interest-charge  usury. 

Secondly,  it  loill  absolutely  reverse  motives.  Instead  of  the 
present  Society  saying;  '•  help  thyself  or  go  to  jail!  "  the  fu- 
ture Society  will  help  eveiybody  by  removing  all  temptation 
to  do  what  is  wrong. 

Here  we  hear  some  well-fed,  well-clad  personage  exclaim: 
''  So  we  are  to  have  only  negative  virtues  in  your  Common- 
wealth ! " 

Only  negative  virtues?    Let  us  recall  what  Beecher  said  of 


24G  MORALS. 

himself:  '*  1  am  on  too  high  a  plane  to  be  afl^ected  by  any 
tenipt;itio;i  to  steal/'  Of  course  he  is !  With  a  yearly  salary 
of  $20.()0lJ  there  is  for  him  ever^''  temptation  to  refrain  from  steal- 
ing. Is  his  thenanytiiing  buta '•  negative"  virtue?  He  should 
not.  like  the  pharisee  of  old,  speak  so  superciliously  of  his 
'*  h)fty  plane."  until  he  was  in  want  of  the  necessaries  and  de- 
cencies of  life,  with  no  honest  way  open  to  him  to  procure 
tliem.  We  have  in  the  foregoing  seen  what  the  ••  lofty  i)lane'' 
of  his  congregation  amoun's  to;  their  principal  virtue  per- 
haps consists  in  hating  so  heartily  the  offences  of  other  people, 
not  in  their  set. 

The  difference  between  our  so  called  '•'virtuous"  and  "vi- 
cious" classes  is  far  more  a  difference  of  teniptation  than  of 
virtue,  'fhe  virtuous  [)erson  can  pride  himself  on  very  little 
else  than  negative  virtues;  he  is  virtuous  because  everything 
tempts  him  to  be  virtuous.  Even  so  we  want  everj'^body,  even 
the  meanest  of  men.  to  be  tempted,  and  the  Coming  Common- 
wealth will  so  tempt  all. 

Now  we  pass  over  to  si/mpathy,  the  crown  of  Morals. 

We  have  frequently  throughout  this  work  had  occasion  to 
quote  from  Herbert  Spencer.  The  reason  is,  that  he  is  truly 
the  most  profound  of  recent  English  philosophers,  that  his 
iiilluence  on  all  liberal  minds  in  our  country  has  been  very 
great,  and  that  we  cannot  conceive  of  anj'-  better  way  of  prop- 
agating socialist  ideas  than  to  show  them  to  !)e  the  logical  out- 
come of  the  best  modern  thouglits.  And  Spencer's  later  i)hil- 
osophy  is  really  socialist.  The  best  socialist  lessons  can  be 
drawn  from  his  latest  work :  ''  Data  of  Ethics,"  and  especially 
from  the  chapter  on  Sympathy. 

Sympatliy  is  fellow-feeling.  To  sympathize  is  to  make  tho 
pleasure  and  pain  of  our  fellows  our  own;  the  former  vre  do 
willingl}^  the  latter  unwillingly.  W^e  naturally  sympathize 
with  pleasant.  Joyful  people;  we  with  dilliculty  sjnnpatiiize 
with  sorrowful  and  miserable  persons.  Anj'one  can  easily 
convince  himself  of  the  truth  of  this,  by  one  day  attending  a 
funeral  and  the  next  day  a  wedding. 

Jt  is  therefore  but  natural  that  sympathy  grows,   if  those 


MORALS.  247 

arouncl  us  babitu:illy  manifest  pleasure  and  but  rarely  pain, 
while  it  decreases,  if  we  ordinarily  witness  little  pleasure  and 
much  pain.  It  is  also  natural  that  sympathy  at  present  grows 
but  little,  since  the  life  usually  led  under  our  present  conditions 
is  such  that  suffering  is  daily  inflicted  or  daily  displayed  by 
associates. 

And  please  observe  that  sympatlvj  andpiY?/  are  two  greatly 
different  things.  Sympathy  requires  equality ;  pity  regards 
the  object  not  only  as  suffering,  but  as  weak,  hence  as  inferior; 
therefore  the  distresses  of  those  beneath  us  excite  only  the  same 
sentinisnt  as  that  with  which  we  regard  the  suffeiing  of  an 
over  worked  cart-horse.  It  is  just  because  the  occasional  so- 
called  ''charities"  of  the  wealthy  have  tluur  motive  in  pity 
and  not  in  sympathy,  that  they  lack  all  moral  value,  though 
the  following  remarks  of  Prof.  Adler  are  also  true:  '*  Of 
what  avail  would  it  be  if  one  of  the  members  of  the  great 
monopoly  which  I  have  recently  described  were  to  found  an 
orphan  asylum  or  to  build  a  hospital?  Should  we  really  be 
willing  to  clap  hands  as  many  are  supposed  to  do  and  cry,  Oh, 
how  charitable  the  man  is  I  Why,  he  has  not  begun  to  give 
back  to  societ}''  what  he  has  taken  from  it  in  the  tiist  instance, 
much  less  that  he  should  claim  credit  to  himself  for  his  char- 
itableness." In  such  cases '"  charity "  is  nothing  but  huah- 
money. 

And  for  the  very  reason  that  there  can  be  no  sympathy  with- 
out equality,  we  in  a  former  chapter  denounced  the  subjection 
of  emplo3'e  to  employer  as  demoralizing.  We  now*  wish  to 
speak  of  a  relation  than  which  nothing  in  the  present  consti- 
tution of  Society  is  more  essentially  vicious  and  morally  in- 
jurious :  the  relation  of  domestic  servants  to  their  "  masters  " 
and  '•  mistresses."  We  called  the  wage-workers'  condition 
substantial  slavery;  that  of  servants  is  servitude  in  substance 
and  form. 

American  society  has  wofully  retrograded  in  this  respect. 
In  the  beginning  of  this  century  Americans  spoke  of  their 
'•help;"  now  it  is  everywhere  "servants!"  This  is  ?io<  a 
mere  difference  of  words,  but  involves  a  degradation  in  posi- 
tion. The  servant  drops  hersurname,  a  veritable  degradation,  for 


248  MORALS. 

ft  marks  her  as  a  person  henceforth  of  no  social  account ;  she  is 
spoken  to  onlj'-  to  receive  orders ;  she  abandons  family  life,  an 
ordoal  not  required  by  out-door  workers;  sbeis  day  and  ni^^lit 
subject  to  the  bid(lin«^  of  master  and  mistress,  and  may  be 
called  to  account  for  every  hour  out  of  the  twenty-four.  We 
think  it  very  much  to  the  credit  of  American  women,  that  they 
refuse  thus  to  deg-rade  themselves.  They  are  in  pleasing  ton- 
rrast  to  the  so-called  ''  men  "  who  consent  to  perform  menial 
services  for  others  for — money,  or  who  even  with  apparer '• 
satisfaction  act  as  the  liveried  flunkeys  of  our  money-bagi 
Our  wage-workers  at  least  keep  alive  the  spirit  of  discontenv 
but  who  sver  imagined  that  our  flunkeys  could  be  rebels? 

"We  cannot  withstand  the  temptation  once  more  to  bring  foi 
ward  our  friend,  the  uncompromising  abolitionist,  to  point  i 
moral.  He,  by  nature  the  kindest  of  men.  a  champion  of  tht 
Eights-of-Man  theory,  once  commended  the  English  men-ser- 
vants compared  with  American  specimens  and  said  :  "when 
I  pay  a  man  to  be  a  servant,  I  want  him  to  be  a  servant.*' 
Suppose  a  slave-holder  once  upon  a  time  bad  said  in  his  hear- 
ing :  ••'  T  bought  him  for  a  slave  and  I  want  him  to  be  a  slave  " 
what  would  li<;  have  thought  of  such  an  argument?  Thus 
this  system  of  rich  and  poor,  of  master  and  servant,  demoral- 
izes the  best  of  us,  for  it  nourishes  our  ''love  of  lording  it," 
which  is  the  greatest  obstacle  to  the  growth  of  sympathy. 

It  is,  moreover,  evident  that  the  insolent  individualism  which 
IS  the  moving  power  of  our  present  indu«itrial  system  necessa- 
rily stifles  all  sympathetic  sentiments.  It  incites  men  to  pur- 
sue their  individual  happiness  in  complete  indiflference  to  their 
fellov/s.  When  Herbert  Spencer  was  here,  he  told  us  that  he 
had  observed,  that  Americans  do  not  resent  small  trespasses. 
Why,  if  any  passer-by  would  resent  having  to  force  his  tortu- 
ous way  on  sidewalk*,  crowded  with  boxes,  or  having  his  face 
and  clothes  covered  with  the  sweepings  from  our  stores,  he 
would  make  himself  ridiculous!  Spencer  got  the  cart  before 
the  hor«e.  Every  individual  here  is  a  sovereign  and  says  like 
Vanderbilt:  ''the  dear  public  be  damned!" — and  acts  accoro» 
mglv. 

Sympathy  however  has  proven  itself  a  far  stronger  forci 


MORALS.  219 

tlian  individualism.  The  views  we  now  hold  on  the  subject 
of  Slavery  compared  with  those  held  by  the  (^ood  and  wise  of 
oJd  prove  the  growth  of  sympathy  during  the  whole  historic 
period  of  man.  And  please  mark,  that  even  during  this  indi- 
vidualistic, sceptical  age,  in  which  integrity  has  so  wofuHy 
deteriorated,  sympathy  has  constantly  been  on  the  increase. 
The  evidences  thereof  are  on  every  side.  Look  at  all  the  hu- 
mane institutions  in  every  nook  and  corner  of  our  land — asy- 
lums and  hospitals  for  every  sort  of  misfortune  and  malady. 
Consider  how  ready  men  were  to  inflict  bodily  tortures  a  (^onple 
of  centuries  back  and  how  anxious  we  now  are  to  avoid  doing 
so.  Think  of  the  penal  code  of  medieval  England  and  contrast 
therewith  our  treatment  of  criminals.  Observe  linall}^  the  rel- 
ative frequency  of  the  crimes  themselves:  while  crimes 
against  property  hav^e  notoriously  Increased,  those  of  brutality 
and  passion  have  just  as  evidently  grown  less  as  well  in  num- 
ber as  in  atrocity. 

Just  as  we  did  not  have  to  go  very  far  to  look  for  the  reason 
of  the  backward  state  of  integrity,  so  the  reasons  for  the  growth 
of  sympathy  are  easy  to  find.  Pain  has  been  constantly  on 
the  decrease  and  pleasure  as  constantly  on  the  increase;  that 
is  to  say.  we  are  much  better  clad,  sheltered  and  fed  than  our 
ancestors  were ;  many  plagues  which  decimated  our  forefathers 
during  tlie  Middle  Ages  have  been  entirely  extirpated;  many 
others  of  their  diseases  have  been  considerably  alleviated. 
Thus,  again,  we  find  our  principal  proposition  substantiated, 
that  it  is  material  prosperity  that  is  the  basis  for  all  improve- 
ment, that  economic  relations  are  the  foundation  of  even  tlie 
liighest  form  of  morals. 

And  in  this  conquest  of  sympathy  over  individualism  we  have 
another  evidence,  of  the  most  convincing  force,  that  we  are  irre- 
sistably  drifting  towards  Socialism.  Why,  even  Spencer  foresees 
'*  an  advanced  social  state  where  the  manifestations  of  pleas- 
ure preilominate  and  where  sympathy,  therefore,  will  reach  a 
height  that  we  cannot  now  imagine.*' 

And  what  kind  of  '•  advanced  social  state  *'  has  Spejjcer  here 
in  his  mind  ?    Hear  him ! 

"The  citizens  of  a  large  nation,  industrially  organized^  have 


250  MORALS. 

reacheil  their  possible  ideal  of  happiness  when  the  producing, 
distributing  and  other  activities  are  sucli,  tliat  each  citizen 
finds  in  tlieni  a  place  far  all  his  energies  and  aptitudes  while 
he  obtains  the  means  of  satisfying  all  his  desires. 

""And  we  can  imagine  the  eventual  existence  of  a  commu- 
nity where,  in  addition,  the  members  are  characterized  by  em- 
inent aesthetic  faculties,  and  achieve  c()m|)lete  happiness  only, 
when  a  large  part  of  life  is  tilled  by  aesthetic  activities.'" 

In  these  words  Spencer,  on  whom  tlie  word  '"Socialism" 
probably  has  the  same  effect  that  a  red  cloth  has  on  any  healthy 
bull,  has  drawn  an  admirable  picture  of — a  Socialist  State, 
our  Cooperative  Commonwealth. 

For  in  the  Commonwealth  that  we  have  sketched  in  the  pre- 
ceding pages  everybody  will  certainly  find  "a  place  for  all 
his  energies  and  aptitudes"  and  obtain  "•  means  of  satisfying 
all  his  desires." 

Jn  that  Conimonwealth  ignorance  and  uncleanliness  will  dis- 
appear. Ev<^n  so  bodily  pains,  for  we  may  br  sure  that  med- 
ical science  and,  especially,  a  developed  public  h3'-giene  will 
xevy  soon  have  redntjcd  pln'sical  suffering  to  a  minimum. 

In  that  Commonwealth  will  be  found  tnat  necessary  condi- 
tion of  sympath}^  which  Spencer  ignores:  substantial,  perhiips 
absolute,  equalitfj.  The  relation  then,  corresponding  to  our 
'"domestic  service,"  will  at  all  events  be  a  moral— a  sympathetic 
relation:  that  is,  domestics  will  be  incorporated  in  the  family, 
as  members  of  it.  No  one  then,  surely,  will  be  so  slavish  as  to 
accept  the  position  on  less  honorable  terms. 

"Is  the  man  crazy?"  some  will  here  exclaim,  ''no  one  to 
black  our  boots,  brnsh  our  clothes,  sweep  our  rooms,  attend 
us  !it  meals,  nurs"  our  children  I  No  one  to  look  after  our  com- 
fort I  No  one  to  answer,  when  we  call  "Put.'  *  John  '  and  *  Bridg- 
et ! '    Th:it  will  be  a  nice  sort  of  life,  indeed !  " 

We  r.'ally  think  you vvillhave  to  "•  look  after  your  comfort " 
yourself;  most  of  your  fellowmen,  many  of  them  far  more 
worthy  than  you.  now  h:ive  to  do  tliat.  At  the  public  places,  of 
course,  you  can  havr  all  your  wants  supplied  and  j'ourself  at- 
tended to,  but  mark !  by  persons,  as  much  public  functionaries 
iis  you  yourself   will   be,   and  conscious  of   being   so,    and 


MORALS.  251 

whom  you  r^annot  familiarly  call  •'  Ben "  or  '^  John,"'  ex- 
cept on  an  equal  footing.  But  at  home  you  will  have  to  be 
'•'•served"  b^^  members  of  your  fainily  and  such  people  whom 
your  personal  qualities  will  attach  to  your  person. 

That  Commonwealth,  we  insist,  will  be  Spencer's  •'  advanced 
Eocial  state"  where  sympath}'  will  attain  such  a  growth,  that 
we  now  hardly  can  conceive  of  it;  fjr  we  firmly  believe  with 
John  S.  Mill,  that  "the  present  wretched  social  arrangements 
are  the  only  hindrances  to  the  attainment  by  almost  all  of  an 
existence,  made  up  of  a  few  and  transitory  pains  and  many  and 
various  pleasures." 

We  have  already  considered  some  of  the  fruits  of  that  high- 
er morality  wliich  thus  will  be  the  natural  outcome  of  better 
economic  conditions.  We  may  now  add  that  not  only 
cri;ne3  against  property,  whicli  we  discussed  under  the  head 
of  '-integrity."  but  all  forms  of  crime  will  i)robab]y  be  prac- 
tically unknown 

Crime,  i;i  all  its  forms,  is  an  evidence  of  the  neglected  re- 
sponsibilities of  Socicry.  exactly  as  the  plagues  of  the  Middle 
Ages  were  the  proofs  that  the  laws  of  health  were  disregard- 
ed. Now  we  have  a  daily  birth  of  so  many  infants,  so  imbed- 
ded in  criminality,  that  you  might  lay  your  hands  on  each  and 
s.iy,  that  if  not  rescuid  by  something  akin  to  a  miracle,  this 
child  is,  i!ievitabl3%  destined  to  a  criminal  career.  It  is  a  sad 
retlection  that  infanticide  would  in  their  cases  be  absolute  mer- 
cy I  Yet  the  State  stands  by  with  folded  arms,  cares  not  a 
straw  for  tliein.  permitting  them  tj  be  trained  to  crime,  fur- 
nishing them  even  temptations,  until  it  catches  them  with  its 
implacable  arms  and — strangles  them.  For  mark  I  children 
and  young  persons — and  old  persons,  too,  fjr  that  matter — 
are  led  into  a  crnuinal  career  from  preeisely  the  same  reasons 
that  keep  proper  peoi)le  from  such  a  career :  temptation,  ex- 
ample and  love  of  approbation. 

The  New  Order  w411  do  away  with  crimes  against  property — 
"legitimate,"  such  as  the  law  now  takes  no  notice  of.  as  well 
as  '"illegitiinate  " — by  teniipting  all  the  right  way.  It  ^vill  do 
away  with  crimes  of  brutality  and  passion  b}'  its  thorc  ugh 
education  and  exalted  symxjathy.    For  this  class  of  Crimea 


252  MORALS. 

does,  certainly,  depend  upon  the  "plane "-up  to  which  one 
has  been  edncated.  As  to  such  crimss  Beecher  might,  with 
propriet}',  say  of  himself,  that  he  is  on  too  high  a  plane  ever 
to  be  tempted  to  commit  them,  though  a  given  occasion 
might  prove,  thnt  he  was  mistaken  even  in  that.  In  other 
words,  criminals  will  be  foiuid  to  be  what  all  socalled  '"  nui- 
sanceo"  at  bottom  are:  useful  matter  in  wrong  places. 

Of  courso,  for  the  first  few  generations  the  New  Order  will 
still  have  some  criminals  on  its  hands.  In  order  to  show,  that 
Socialists  are  not  influenced  by  any  peculiar  sentimentality  in 
favor  of  criminals,  let  us  state  that  we  perfectly  agree  with 
Ilerbert  Spencer,  who  would  give  convicts  the  barest  of  boards 
to  rest  on  and  nothing  but  cold  water  to  support  themselves 
on,  until  they  force  themselves — by  an  internal  coercion  which 
they  can  carry  with  them  out  of  prison — to  work  for  their 
necessaries  of  life  and  whatever  comforts  thej''  desire,  with- 
out subjecting  tlieni  to  any  unnecessary  pain  and  degradation 
as  now  they  are  subjected  to.  But  that,  also,  can  only  be  prop- 
erly accomplished  in  the  New  Commonwealth,  whore  convict 
labor  will  become  an  integral  part  of  the  cooporativ*;  labor  of 
Society.  Convicts  will  there,certainly,  not  be  utilized  by  con- 
tractors to  paste  leather  and  pasteboard  together  to  make  a 
thick  sole  impose  upon  the  public,  as  is  said  not  to  be  unfre- 
quently  the  case  now. 

But  the  most  glorious  frnit  of  this  higher  morality,  the  one 
that  ought  to  be  most  highly  prized,  will  be  this :  that  a  com- 
plete accord,  a  perfect  conciliation, will  at  last  be  elfected  be- 
tween two  hitherto  irreconcilable  sentiments,  self-love  on  the 
one  hand,  and  regard  for  our  fellow-citizens  and  the  public  on 
the  other. 

We  have  several  times  impressed  upon  our  readers  the  fact 
that  Socialists  take  human  nature  as  it  is  and  we  have  claimed 
that  to  be  one  of  their  greatest  merits.  It  will  also  have  been 
noticed  that  our  Commonwealth  is  built  on  self-love  in  robust 
vigor  as  on  its  corner-stone.  Every  man  is  necessarily  his 
own  centre,  we  hold;  he  can,  as  has  been  said,  no  more 
displace  himself  from  self-interest  than  he  can  leap  off  hia 
own  shadow. 


MORALS.  253 

Xow  we  already  have,  as  Spencer  has  observed,  instances 
of  complete  accord  between  self-love  and  love  for  otliers.  We 
find  it  ill  the  relation  of  a  mother  to  her  child  and  of  the  lov- 
\ni^  husband  to  his  wife. 

Is  the  mother  who  is  watchin*^  day  and  night  over  lier  sick 
cliild  and  thereby  imperilling  her  own  health  devoid  of  self- 
h»ve?  Is  it  not  the  fact  that  she  is  exactly  gratifying  herself 
in  acting  as  she  does? 

Go  to  the  bottom  and  you  will  find  that  her  sacriflce  is  made 
from  a  direct  desire  to  make  it.  is  made  to  satisfy  an  egoistic 
sentiment  or  craving,  and  the  strengtli  of  that  egoistic  senti- 
ment is  shown  in  a  peculiarly  strong  light  by  the  adoption  of 
children  by  the  childless. 

In  the  same  manner  the  husband  is  truly  egoistic,  when  he 
makes  sacrifices  for  tlie  belov<id  wife. 

Now.  in  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth,  where  perfect  har- 
mony will  obtain  between  the  interests  of  each  citizen  and 
those  of  the  citizens  at  large,  just  as  it  now  obtains  between 
the  members  of  a  well-ordered  famil}'.  there  the  final  devilop- 
ment  of  sympathy  will  in  time  merge  self-love  and  regard  for 
our  fellow  citizens  into  a  concord,  kindred  to  that  between 
husband  and  wife  and  parent  with  children.  A  kindred  con- 
cord we  say,  not  exactly  a  like  concord. 

We  shall  gain  pleasure  by  giving  pleasure,  but  we  shall  not 
be  thinking  of  tlie  sympathetic  pleasure  gained,  but  only  of 
that  given.  We  even  shall  in  the  N"evv  Commonwealth  will- 
ingly atid  with  supreme  satisfaction  do  acts  of  trne  self-sacri- 
fice. The  explanation  of  that  seeming  contradiction  is,  that 
cases  involving  self-sacrifice  will  in  that  Commonwealth  be- 
come so  rare  and  therefore  so  liighly  prized,  that  they  will  be 
unhesitatinglj'  preferred  and  not  at  all  felt  as  self-sacrificing 
acts;  just  as  we  even  now  sometimes  hear  it  said  of  some- 
body :    *'  Let  him  take  the  trouble :  it  pleases  him  to  do   so." 

It  will  from  all  this  be  seen  that  we  by  no  means  want  to 
"  reform  "  men.  We  do  not  claim  that  under  Socialism  men 
or  women  will  be  any  hotter  than  they  now  are  or  ever  have 
been.    We  want  to  reform  their  surroundings^  the  constitution 


254  MORALS. 

of  Society,  the  mould  in  which  thoir  lives,  thoughts  and  fccl- 
li);xs  are  cast. 

Socialists  want  to  make  it  the  interest  of  all  to  he  honest,  to 
make  it  to  the  advnntane  of  all  to  furnish  their  best  work, 
to  make  it  ??,r<^?rmrfor  men  tolovethoir  neiiJjhbors  as  themselves. 

Socialists  want  all  to  be  able  to  rake  a  deli2:ht  in  life  for  its 
own  sake  and  in  everything  that  ministers  to  it,  and  that  is  the 
end  of  morals. 

*' Yes,  it  is  well  enough  to  enable  people  to  take  delight  in 
this  life.  Knt  it  is  related  of  Samuel  Johnson,  that  he  once 
exclaimed  on  being  shown  over  a  magnificent  estate:  '  Aye, 
sir!  these  are  the  things  that  make  death  bitter.'  It  is  vain 
to  bid  men  excludethethonghtof  immortality  from  their  minds, 
and  think  only  of  making  the  best  of  this  life  and  that  is  what 
we  understand  Socialists  mean  them  to  do.  We  understand 
that  Socialists  mean  to  drive  religion  entirely  out  of  the 
world." 

You  misunderstand  us,  friend !  We  do  not  propose  to  drive 
religion  out  of  human  life.     But  what  is  religion?'' 

It  is  with  *•  religion  '*  as  with  ••  democrac}' ; ''  to  revert  to  the 
foreign  words  from  which  they  are  derived  helps  us  very  little 
to  get  a'^  the  essence  of  what  we  mean  when  we  use  these 
terms.  According  to  its  derivation  "  religion  ''  means  the  res- 
toration of  a  broken  bond,  it  is  understood,  between  earth  and 
heaven.  Now,  that  there  is  a  broken  bond  to  restore,  was 
a  fact  to  our  forefathers;  at  present  it  is  to  all  but  simple- 
minded  people  a  theologic  fiction.  If,  however,  by  '^  relig- 
ion"" you  mean  this  dogmatic  theology.  Socialists  do  propose 
to  help  drive  it  out.  Socialism  is  the  inveterate  foe  of  theolo- 
gy— a  fact  of  which  the  Pope  is  well  aware,  wherefore  he  is 
perfectly  right  in  damning  it — because  Socialism  is  abreast 
with  the  h.ighest  intelligence  of  the  time,  and  the  highest  in- 
telligence of  all  progressive  countries  is  at  issue  with  what, 
only  by  a  stretch  of  courtesy,  may  be  called  the  popular  re- 
ligion. This,  w^e  hold,  is  a  most  mischievous  state  of  a(T;iirs, 
latal  tosincerit3^  and  creating,  on  the.  one  hand,  in  the  masses 
of  the  people  a  chilling,  conceited  scepticism  in  regard  to 


MOT7ALS.  255 

everytliiii.j?  that  cannot  be  touched  or  h.'.ncnecl.  or  gU  ing  rise, 
on  the  other  hand,  to  sickly  spiritual  hallucinations.  Ail  that 
in  the  future  will  be  needed  to  drive  this  theology  entirely  out 
of  human  life  is  to  continue  that  ••Titanict  laUji:liter — thai  tt^^r- 
rible,  side-shaking,  throne-and-aitar-shaking  laughter'' — which 
Ifabelais  started. 

That  which  is  now  meant  by  '"•  religion  "  is  the  view  we  hold 
of  our  relation  to  the  great  mystery  which  is  all  around  us, 
in  time  as  well  as  in  ?pace,  and  the  awe  we  naturally  feel\vheii 
we  think  of  it.  We  do  not  propose  to  drive  religion  in 
that  sense  out  of  the  world,  because  it  cannot  be  done,  even 
if  we  wanted  to.  Comte  tried  it  and  only  succeeded  in  doing 
what  children  do  who  are  afraid  of  the  darkness :  they  pull 
the  bedclothes  over  their  heads  and  pretend  there  is  no  dark- 
ness beyond.  Xor  are  Socialists,  like  the  men  of  the  French 
Revolution,  going  to  commit  sucli  puerile  follies,  as  either  to 
decree  a  deitj''  out  of  existence  or  decree  him  back  again. 

But  there  is  not  the  least  doubt  that  just  as  the  new  econo- 
mic system  will  greatly  modify  the  family-relation,  education 
and  morals,  so  it  will  mightily  affect  religion,  as  we  have  now 
defined  it.  For,  please  mark  this  important  fact,  that  as  mor- 
als and  education  are  the  fruits  of  our  economic  relations,  so 
religion  is  the  fruit  of  our  morals  and  education.  The  latter 
are  primary :  our  gods  are  but  the  reflections  of  our  moral  and 
intellectual  state.  The  religion  of  a  nation  is  the  outcome  of 
its  highest  intelligence  in  its  most  solenni  moments. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  idea  of  immortality  has  hitherto 
been  an  integral  element  of  everything  that  deserves  the  nan)0 
of  religion,  that  our  whole  race  has  and  has  had  a  deep  and 
secret  longing  for  life  beyond  the  grave.  This  longing  may  be 
tlue  to  the  fact  that  this  world  was  to  the  masses  a  veritable 
"'  vale  of  tears;  "  it  has  at  all  events  been  fostr-red  by  Cathol- 
iclsm  and  other  so-called  ''religions,"  whose  whole  strength 
consisted  in  offering  a  consolation  to  people  who  felt  misera- 
ble here.  It  is  just  possible  that  when  men  all  live  to  a  good  , 
old  age  and  get  out  of  this  life  all  the  delights  which  nature 
permits,  that  this  longing  itself  will  disappear.    But  this  long- 


25  G  MORALS. 

ing  does  exist  in  the  breast  of  mankind  at  present,  and  is  no- 
where stronger  than  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  race. 

Now,  wlu'thcr  this  longing  for  and  belief  in  immortality  is 
to  be  a  part  of  the  religion  of  the  fntnre  is  impossible  to  fore- 
see.    We  can  only  say  with  Prof.  Goldwin  Smith : 

•'Suspense  of  judgment  and  refusal  to  accept  the  unknown 
as  known  is  the  natural  frame  of  mind  for  any  one  who  has 
followed  the  debate  with  an  unprejudiced  understanding  and 
who  is  resolved  to  be  absolutely  loyal  to  truth.  To  such  a 
one  existence  is  an  unfjithomable  and  overwhelming  mystery. 
But  let  not  this  suspense  of  judgment  intimate  a  negative  de- 
cision. For  a  negative  decision  the  hour  has  certainly  not  yet  ar^ 
rived^  especially  as  the  world  has  hardly  yet  had  time  to  draw 
breath  after  the  bewildering  rush  of  physical  discovery." 

We  may  also  add,  that  Science  knows  as  yet  next  to  noth- 
ing about  the  Mind;  there  are,  however,  great  promises  in 
that  direction  in  the  near  future.  It  is  by  studying  the  dis- 
turbances of  Nature,  that  Science  has  succeeded  in  penetrat- 
ing some  ot  her  inmost  mysteries,  and  even  so  it  is  by  watch- 
ing the  disturbances  of  the  mind,  that  Science  already  has  given 
us  glimpses  of  hitherto  unknown  powers  of  the  mind.  Thus 
by  the  study  of  cataleptic  patients  it  has  already  been  demon- 
strated, that  the  Mind  has  extraordinary  capacities,  independ- 
ent of  the  orderly  agency  of  its  bodily  machinerj'-,  and  that  its 
perceptions  in  that  condition  are  as  much  realJti«^s  as  those  of 
its  ordinary  condition,  it  is  impossible  to  say,  what  light  may 
not  he  thrown  on  the  question  of  personal  immortality,  when 
once  this  rich  mine  has  been  worked  out  by  Science;  then  ""the 
hour  nuiy  have  come  for  a  decision,"'  one  way  or  the  other. 
]t  seems  however  to  us,  that  the  tliought  of  living  a  thousand 
years  hence  somewhere  with  personal  identity  miimpaii'cd, 
is  so  rapturous  and  so  inspiring  that  mankind  will  not  feel  in- 
clined to  relinquish  it  vuitil  Science  lays  down  its  veto. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  fate  of  the  immortality-theory, 
we  can  be  pretty  sure  tht't  our  race  will  again  be  i)ractically 
unanimous  on  some  religion,  as  they  will  be  on  all  in)portant 
matters.  They  probably  will  never  know  whether  they 
have  found  the  objective  truth   or  not.   but  that  is  not  of 


MORALS.  257 

first  importn nee.  for  obsen;e  that  religion  is  subjective,  is  the 
human  view  of  the  mystery  and  our  relation  to  it;  if  the  mys- 
tery is  ever  reveuled  it  will  cease  to  be  an  object  of  religion. 
But  some  theory  of  life  is  needed  to  give  harmony,  purpose 
and  vigor  to  active  life,  and  they  will  certainly  agree  on  such 
a  theory  as  will  explain  the  mystery  to  them  and  satisfy  their 
highest  intelligence.  This  is  not  the  place  to  state  the  thoughts 
which  the  wiiter  of  this  has  on  that  subject. 

Let  us  only  say  that  this  future  religion  will  make  this  world 
a  real  one.    The  existing  reh'gions   fail   to  satisfy  mankind' 
especially  because  they  inculcate  that  this  present   existence 
is  vain  and  that  all  the  affairs  of  this  world  arc  i)etty  and  w  orth- 
less;   that  some  other  w-orld  is  the  real  one. 

The  religion  of  the  future,  besides,  will  lay  special  stress  on 
o\\Y  interdependence ;  \i  \\\l\  te:<\i\\  men  t\\i\.t  the  only  way  in 
whichthey  can  enter  into  vital  relations  with  the  Great  Mystery- 
is  through  Humanity^  Socialism,  in  other  words,  will  elevate 
religion  from  being  a  narrow  personal  concern  between  the  in- 
dividual and  his  maker  into  a  social  concern  between  Humanity 
and  its  Destiny.  Humanity  will  not  become  a  god,  as  Conite 
would  have  it,  but  the  mediator  between  man  and  the  Mystery. 

When  at  some  time  you  are  lying  sleepless  in  bed  in  the  solemn 
hours  ol  the  night,  do  what  I  often  have  done :  project  j'our- 
self  into  space  and  fancy  the  insignificant  little  planet  whicli 
is  our  dwelling  place  rolling  swiftly  past  you,  swarming  with 
its  ant-colonies  of  kings  and  beggars,  capitalists  and  workers, 
all  in  the  hollow  of  the  hand  of  that  Great  Mj'^stery !  Is  not 
that  a  train  of  thought  that  should  make  manifest  to  us  the 
*•  solidarity."  the  interdependence  of  mankind?  What  is  more 
natural  than  that  each  of  us  should  desire  and  try  to  help  our 
species  along  on  the  road  to  its  destiny,  since  the  ability  has 
mercifully  been  granted  to  us  to  cooperate  with  that  Will  of 
Liic  LniverjsL'  vMiini  uiir  own  nature  t?uggests  to  us! 

^Vlio  can  then  deny  that  Socialists  are  religious  inthehigh- 
est  sense  of  the  world?  Our  creed  can  be  expressed  in  these 
words  of  the  preacher  of  Village  Politics  ; 

'•  The  modern  Christ  would  be  a  politician.  His  aim  would 
be  to  raise  the  whole  platform  of  modern  society.    He  would 


258  MORALS. 

not  try  to  makf  the  poor  contented  witli  a  lot  in  wliicli  tliey 
cannot  be  much  better  than  savages  or  brntes.  He  would 
work  at  the  destruction  of  caste,  which  is  the  vice  at  the  root 
of  all  our  creeds  and  institutions.  lie  would  not  content  him- 
self with  denouncing  sin  as  merely  spiritual  evil;  he  would 
go  into  its  economic  causes,  and  destroy  the  flower  by  cutting 
at  the  roots — poverty  and  ignorance.  He  would  accept  the 
truths  of  science,  and  he  would  teach  that  a  man  saves  his  soul 
best  by  helping  his  neighbor." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE  COMING  REVOLUTION. 


"Be  careful,  sirs!  how  you  jndofe  God's  revolutions  as   the 
products  ot  man's  invention."  —  Oliver  Cromvell. 

''  The  Revohition  is  a  \vorl<;  of  the  Unknown,     Call  it   good 
or  bad,  as  you  yearn  towards  the  Future  or  the  Past.'' 

Victor  Hugo. 

*'  Twas  but  the  ruin  of  the  bad. 
The  wastino^  of  the  wjong  and  ill, 
"Whatever  of  ^ood  the  old  time  hud 


"VVas  living  still." 


WJiittier. 


We  commenced  this  book  by  quothig  these  words   from  a 
dialogue  in  "■  The  Nineteenth  Centurj'^:  " 

'^  We  see  that  political  systems  in  all  progressive  societies 
tend  toward  socialistic  democracy.  We  see  everywhere  that 
it  mtiM  come  to  that.  We  all  of  us  feel  this  conviction,  or  all 
of  us,  I  suppose,  who  have  reflected  on  the  matter.  We  feel, 
too,  that  nothing  we  can  do  can  avert  or  possibly  long  delay 
the  consummation.  Then,  we  must  believe  that  the  movement 
,  is  being  guided,  or  is  guiding  itself,  to  happy  issues." 

We  now  add  the  response  immediately  follo^ving,  from  the 
same  dialogue: 
*•  Hope  that  the  inevitable  may  prove  the  ultimately  desirable. 


2  GO  THE  COMING  REVOLUTION. 

but  act  towards  It  in  public  affairs  as  you  do  in  private,  i.  c— 
ignore  it  altogether!-'' 

It  is,  of  course,  two  of  '-our  best  people"  who  thus  dis* 
course.  The  one  who  warns  his  friend  that  the  ;)oZz7zcrt?  S3's- 
tems  of  all  progressive  countries  are  drifting  towards  '*  social- 
istic'* democracy  is  uncommonly  far-seeing  and  candid,  lie 
is  undoubtedly  right;  the  simple  fact  that  household-suffrage 
was  introduced  in  his  country  under  lory  auspices  proves  it. 
But  he  is  not  profound  enough.  Political  phenomena  are  mere- 
ly the  straws  on  the  surface  that  show  the  direction  of  the  cur- 
rent. That  all  the  tendencies  are  and,  especially,  that  the  un- 
dercurrent is  towards  Socialism,  towards  Social-Cooperation, 
is  the  principal  p]'oposition  of  these  pages. 

Of  the  surface-tendencies  there  are,  moreover,  several  of 
more  significance  than  the  political  symptoms.  Such  are :  the 
success  of  our  common-school  system  and  the  efforts  in  other 
*' progressive  societies"  by  the  State  for  the  education  of  the 
masses;  the  fact  that,  though  '•  Individualism"  is  rampant 
enough,  practically,  as  a  doctrine  it  is  declining  in  the  Protes- 
tant countries  that  gave  it  birth,  and  that  the  sects  that  wore 
its  apostles  are  now  of  next  to  no  influence;  and,  most  signifi- 
cant of  all,  the  remarkable  growth  of  fellow-feeling  among 
the  masses,  due  to  the  concentration  of  the  workers  in  ov.r 
cities,  for  there  man  meets  man  and  spirit  quickens  spirit  and 
intercourse  breeds  sympathy,  and  sympathy  combination  and 
enthusiasm,  while  the  agriculturists  remain  comparatively  un- 
sympathetic and  weak  on  account  of  their  isolated   situation. 

liut  the  undercurrent  is  the  decisive  factor.  We  mean  the 
force  that  is  unfolding  the  inaterial,  the  industrial  relations  of 
life.  Already  Goethe  i-emarked  of  animals  that  subordination 
and  difference  of  parts  is  the  measure  of  the  height  of  their 
organization;  we  have  learned  that  precisely  the  same  applies 
to  the  social  organization.  This  undercurrent  manifests  itself 
in  the  concentration  of  manufactures,  of  transportation,  of 
conunerce,  and  in  the  rise  of  large  farms ;  in  short,  in  the  growth 
of  monopolies.  These,  however,  furnish  us  no  halting  place. 
For  while  these  luonopolies,  on  the  one  hand,  have  immense- 
ly increased  the  productivity  of  labor,  they  have  on  the  other 


THE  CO^nNG    PtE VOLUTION.  261 

i^and,  "boen  unable  to  furnish  the  requisite  effective  demand 
tlowever  paradoxical  it  seems  the  resulthas  been,  that  our  hir^e 
jiccessions  of  wealth  and  comfort  have  created  an  extended 
sense  of  unhappiness.  As  a  consequence  the  undercurrent 
carries  us  beyond  individual  monopolies  and  calls  forth  the 
popidar  cry  for  collective  control  of  material  interests,  first 
of  all,  of  telegraphs  and  railways. 

Now  riglit  here  this  current  meets  another,  a  parallel  current : 
that  which  has  been  propelling  the  State  unwillingly,  in  oppo- 
sition to  all  received  theories,  to  take  charge  of  one  social  ac- 
tivity after  another ;  a  tendency  that  perhaps  can  be  made 
clear  in  no  better  manner  than  by  stating  that  the  national  ex- 
penses of  England  were  in  ISH  forty  times  as  great  as  in  IGSo, 
while  the  population  had  only  trebled — of  England  where  the 
doctrine   of  "  let  alone  "  has  had  undisputed  authority  I 

Kowthe  exercise  of  national  authority  has  been  extended  In 
our  country  in  the  last  generation  we  have  already  noted,  and 
we  are  convinced  that  this  centralization  so-called  would  have 
been  Justas  irresistible,  though  perliapsslovver.  if  the  Democratic 
party  had  been  in  power — look  at  the  alacrity  with  which  the 
Democrats  vote  f  >r  appropriations  for  rivers  and  harbors  !  The 
proposition  of  such  an  astute  politician  as  Blaine  to  make  the 
National  Government  the  tiscal  agent  of  the  States  and  the  deep 
impression  it  has  inade  is  another  sign  of  the  times.  But  onr 
civil  war,  of  course,  was  the  giant  step  of  our  social  evolution, 
and  it  is  very  dilicult  to  decide,  whether  its  main  issue,  the 
Union,  or  its  side  issue.  Slavery,  will  prove  of  most  importance. 
All  other  progressive  countries,  however,  have  kept  pace  with 
us.  The  struggles  for  nationality  everj'-where  have  migiitily 
advanced  the  evolntion  of  the  social  organism.  Even  the 
enormous  standing  armies  of  the  European  continent  do  this. 
us  does  everything  that  drills  the  masses  as  a  whole  and  that 
teaches  the  people  to  work  in  concert.  Wliv,  it  is  through  the 
German  standing  army  that  the  German  peasant  has  become 
accessible  to  ^oci.dist  ideas  I 

Ruckle  lays  it  down  that  "  the  movements  of  nations  are 
perfectly  natural;  like  others,  they  are  determined  solely  by 
their  aiitecedeuts."     We  may,  in  passhig,  re uaark  that  the  fact 


262  THE  COMING    REVOLUTION. 

that  tliis  view  is  now  tlio  ficenerally  .adoptod  one,  the  fact  that 
the  hiw  of  evohition  has  been  diseovered  and  recognized  as 
governing  also  Societies,  is  itself  an  important  step  of  the  so^ 
cial  evohition.  In  the  light  of  that  philosophy  it  is  easy  to 
see  tliatonr  whole  civilization  has  been  a  lesson  in  cooperatiou, 
that  slavery  was  the  first  lesson,  that  serfdum  was  the  second, 
that  onr  present  wage-system  is  bnt  a  niodilied  form  of  tlie 
hitter,  and  that  socird-cooperation,  State  Cooperation^  Socialism^ 
is  to  be  the  system  of  the  future,  for  this  id^a  is  in  harmony 
with  all  antecedents  and  all  our  surroundings,  and  our  whole 
age  cooperates  with  it. 

However,  there  is  something  else  of  importance  to  be  noted. 
Herbert  Spencer,  as  we  have  seen,  is  one  with  iis  in  holding 
that  Society  will  in  the  course  of  evolution  arrive  at  '•  an  ad- 
vanced social  state."  But,  besides  shutting  his  eyes  complete- 
ly to  the  growing  influence  of  the  collective  authority,  he  holds 
that  this  evolution  is  a  purely  blind  natural  force.  Virtually 
he  teaches:  "■  Do  not  try  to  do  anything  at  all;  it  is  simply 
folly.  In  the  first  place,  you  cannot  do  anything;  and,  next, 
any  effort  on  your  part  is  unnecessary;  if  you  only  let  things 
alone,  they  will  come  out  all  right  of  themselves  sometime 
in  the  far  distant  future.''''  It  is  no  wonder  that  this  indolent 
ODtimism  does  not  attract  the  masses.  How  can  Spencer  have 
any  sympathy  with  his  fellovvmen?  What  gospel  has  lie  or 
have  his  disciples  tor  the  poor,  the  suffering  and  oppressed? 
The  greatest  objection,  however,  to  this  scientitic  fatalism  is 
that  it  is  unsound^  fallacious. 

The  fact  is,  that,  though  Societj'^  is  truly  an  organism,  the 
evolution  of  Society  does  not  take  place  precisely  like  the 
growth  of  plants  or  animals.  The  former  is  the  result  of  ef- 
forts consciously  put  forth ;  the  progress  of  man  requires  the 
cooperation  of  men.  Therefore,  while  Buckle's  view,  that  the 
movements  of  nations  depend  u[)on  their  antecedents  is  true,  it 
is  not  the  whole  truth;  it  must  be  supplemented  by  Carlyle's 
idea,  that  *■'  the  history  of  what  man  has  accomplished  is  at 
bottom  the  history  of  the  great  men  who  have  worked  here.'* 
Again  it  is  true  that  an  idea,  to  be  successful,  must  be  in  har- 
fiion  V  with  surrounding  conditions,  and  yet,  that  is  not  enough  r 


THE  COMING  KEVOLUTION.  263 

it  must  also  be  incarnated,  so  to  speak,— made  alive — in  men 
and  women.  There  must  be  a  f«\v  i)eople.  at  least,  who  care 
a  great  deal  about  the  idea  and  who  feel  a  resistless  impulse 
towards  its  propagation 

Hence  we  add.  that  porhaps  THE  most  important  part  of  the 
evolution  is  the  fact  that  thei^e  are  Socialists  in  the  loorld  at  the 
present  time,  that  there  are  resolute  men  and  women,  intelli- 
gent representatives  of  all  classes,  who  are  determined  to  lead 
the  world  into  the  new  channels !  The  most  precious  product 
of  the  evolution,  therefore,  we  say.  is  that  practical  and  ener- 
getic band,  consisting  less  of  dreamers  than  any  number  of 
men  hitherto  concerned  in  any  great  movement,  and  yet  tired 
with  an  ideal  that  makes  people  forget  their  national  antip- 
athies— what  even  Cliristianity  has  been  powerless  to  (Aol 
The  pledge  of  success  precisely  are  these  men  and  women 
who  act  as  if  the  fortunes  of  the  world  depended  on  their  per- 
sonal endeavors,  proudly  conscious  that  the  fortunes  of  the 
world  have  depended  on  the  struggles  of  just  such  m^nasthey  f 

One  such  man — a  man  with  a  faith — is  a  social  power,  equal 
to  999  who  have  only  interests. 

Tlie  distinguishing  trait  of  Socialists  is  that  they  boldly  aim 
at  a  revolution  and  care  not  a  jot  about  reforms. 

We  know  that  good  people  now-a-days  shudder  at  the  mere 
whisper  of  the  word  "'revolution."  It  was  not  alwaj's  so. 
There  was  a  time  when  the  c^^es  of  patriots  sparkled  when- 
ever "Tlie  American  1 'evolution  "  was  spoken  ;  there  was  a 
time  when  '"  The  English  Revolution  "  sounded  tolerably  well 
in  polite  ears.  Now  the  term  '•  revolution  "  seems  to  suggest 
nothing  but  blood  and  destruction  and  violence.  Yet,  it  means 
nothing  of  the  kind.  It  simply  denotes  a  complete  change,  the 
vigorous  adaptation  of  old  social  elements  to  new  conditions, 
most  orderly,  but  effecting  vast  and  permanent  alterations. 
That  is  what  all  philosophic  Socialists  mean  by  a  revolution. 
Their  red  flag  has  no  relation  to  blood,  or  if  it  has,  certainly 
not  to  cold  clotted  blood  but  the  blood  that  courses  warm  and 
throbbing  through  the  veins  of  every  youth  and  maiden. 
But  '^  reforms  "  only  attack  abuses,  and  in  this  are  just  as  un- 
Bcientitic  and  stupid  as   bleeding   for  a  fever  in  olden  times 


264  THE  COMING   KE VOLUTION. 

was;  both  being  simply  criiJe  methods  of  siippressinsf  symp- 
toms. How  can  any  one  '*  reform "'  away  abuses  that  are  in* 
herent  in  the  system  !  Reforms  even  often  do  immense  miscliief : 
tliey  open  the  safety-valves  and  thereby  render  evils  tolerable 
for  the  moment,  but  it  is  well  to  bear  ia  mind  that  evil 
**■  evolves  "  as  well  as  good. 

The  Coming  Itevolution  is  the  new  social  force  which  will  so 
act  on  the  constitution  of  Society  that  the  old  withered  husks 
are  cast  off.  permitting  the  social  butterfly  to  emerge  from  its 
chrysalis  state. 

For  Spencer  is  wrong  again,  when  he  places  his  '*  advanced 
social  state  "  in  the  very  distant  future,  and  teaches  that  the 
progress  of  Society  is  altogether  accomplished  by  slow,  very 
slow,  gradual  stages.  Historic  experience  does  not  at  all 
bear  him  out ;  it  tells  us.  on  the  other  hand,  that  when  a  so- 
cial order  has  once  been  attained,  there  is  lirst  a  period,  quite 
a  long  period,  of  virtual  stagnation,  then  Society  begins  to 
move  slowly  (the  stage  on  which  Spencer  has  v/holly  fixed 
his  attention,)  followed  by  an  advance,  constantly  increasing 
in  velocity — the  nineteenth  century  is  a  good  illustration  of 
this  stage,  for  nre  we  not  moving  along  in  every  department 
with  railroad  speed? — last  of  all.  the  decisive  change  to  a  new 
social  system  is  accomplished  almost  before  the  living  gener- 
ation can  recover  its  breath. 
Will  this  New  Socinl  Order  be  "  a  hanpy  issue?" 
That  is  really  a  consideration  of  secondary  importance  and 
will  perhaps  be  answered  differently  according  to  the  stand- 
point one  occupies.  To  our  money-bags,  prominent  politicians, 
prominent  lawj'ers,  who  now  lord  it  over  us;  to  *•*  independ- 
ent," overbearing,  domineering  *'  rhilistines,"  buoyed 
up  at  the  top,  it  will  probably  not  seem  a  very  •'  happy  issue,"' 
looking  at  it  through  spectacles,  colored  bv  their  class-inter- 
ests, as  they  do.  For  the  very  gist  of  the  Coming  Kevolu- 
tioi*  y\\\  consist  in  unseating  them,  in  abrogating  their  vested 
rights,  the  divine  light  which  they  have  been  taught  that  they 
have  to  the  fruits  of  the  labor  of  other  people.  It  will  abol- 
ish •'  freedom "'  as  they  piactise  it.  th;it  is.  the  right  to  <\o  what 
they  please  and  to  make  others  do  as  they  (the  "independent ''"> 


THT  COMING   REVOLUTION.  265 

plcKse.  But  to  the  great  multitude  it  will  be,  we  should  say, 
a  happj'^  issue,  for  it  will  put  au  end  to  their  subjection  and  put 
inieracptndence — genuine  freedom — in  its  place.  And  if  we 
consider  the  welfare  of  the  social  organism  there  can  be  nc 
doubt  about  the  New  System  being  a  happy  Issue.  Instead 
of  the  quackery,  charlatanism,  amateurship  which  now  bears 
sway  in  all  activities  of  Society  we  shall  have  skill,  compe- 
tence and  qualitiedness  (if  we  may  coin  a  word)  at  the  head 
of  affairs,  and  indeed  from  top  to  bottom.  Whj'-,  the  main 
reasons  why  the  workers  will  dismiss  those  who  ''  rule  "  us 
now,  is  the  very  fact  that  they  have  proved  themselves  inca- 
pable of  "■  governing,'*  of  administering  affairs.  The  anarchy 
which  now  obtains,  the  discontent  of  the  masses,  our  crises, 
our  bankruptcies  are  all  so  many  proofs  of  their  incapacity, 
imbecility  and  ignorance.  And  most  important  of  all,  instead 
of  being  a  croicd^  not  able  even  to  keep  our  streets  clean,  we 
shall  have  organization ;  instead  of  gregariousness  we  shall  have 
association;  instead  of  everybody  pnrsuingliis  individual  pet- 
ty interests  absolutely  indifferent,  and  often  hostile,  to  the 
interests  of  Society,  everybody  will  instinctiveh^  be  con- 
scious of  himself  as  a  being  who,  of  course^  considers  the  so- 
cial welfare  in  his  every  act. 

We  can  be  sure  that  the  Coming  Revolution  will  not  destroy 
an  atom  of  what  is  really  good  now.  We  can  be  sure  that  it 
does  not  mean  destruction  as  much  as  upbuilding.  We  can  be 
sure  that  should  anybody  thereafter  seriouslj'-  propose  to  go 
back  to  the  present  Social  Order,  he  will  be  laughed  at  as  a 
fool,  fit  for  the  lunatic  asylum. 

But — "  ignore  it  altogether!'''' 

Those  who  are  now  at  the  head  of  aflfiiirs  affecting — to  ignore ! 
That  is  a  dangerous  policy.  Those  who  icill  not  see  become  In 
time  those  who  cannot  see.  Think  of  ^-  leaders  "  who  wilfully 
shut  their  ej^es.  and  advise  '•  ignore  it  altogether!  "  of*-  states* 
men  "  with  the  motto  :  "'  after  us  the  deluge !  " 

So,  however,  it  has  always  been.  '•  Force  has  been  the  mid- 
wife at  the  birth  of  every  Nevv  Order."  But  the  responsibili- 
ty be  on  our  incapable  *•  leaders!  *' 


2^0  THE  COMIXG  DEVOLUTION. 

Mcanvvliile  the  evoluiioii  of  society  mnrclies  forward  in 
spite  ot  all  stuinbliug-blocks ;  one  moment  quietly  in  the  bniiii 
of  the  thinker,  the  next  moment  nnmereifiilly  over  c<>ri)ses 
But  it  does  net  want  hlootl.  On  t])e  eontraiy,  it  sends  M'arn. 
ing  in  advance  of  every  catastrophe.  Woe  to  tliose  who  do 
not  heed  that  warning! 

As  yet,  and  first  of  all,  it  is  a  contest  of  ideas.  We  aim  to 
put  tlie  Socialist  idea  into  the  minds  of  the  people,  knowing 
that  if  it  be  there  actions  will  follow  fast  enough.  However, 
as  was  intimated  in  the  Introduction,  the  writer  of  this  does  not 
expect  that  the  majority  will  in  that  way  be  excited  to  action. 

The  majorit}'  are  always  ignorant,  always  indolent ;  .you  can- 
not expect  them  to  be  anything  e'se  with  their  present  so- 
cial surrouiidings.  They  never  have  brought  about,  conscious- 
ly and  deliberately,  any  great  social  change.  Thay  always 
have  peiinitted  an  eneigetic  minority  to  accomplish  that  for 
them,  and  then — they  always  have  sanctioned  the  accomplish- 
ed fact. 

That  our  people  is  no  exception  was  proven  by  the  aboli- 
tion of  slavery.  That  was  accomplished  by  the  emancipation 
proclamation  of  Lincoln  who  was  tagged  on  to  issue  it  bv  an 
energetic  minority;  when  it  was  accomplished,  the  people 
sanctioned  it  by  amending  their  constitution ;  though  even 
now.  as  a  matter  of  course,  '•prominent"  law3^ers  can  be 
found  who  verily  believe,  that  said  proclamation  was  not  worth 
the  paper  it  is  written  on. 

This,  then,  is  our  objective  point :  a  respectable  minority ,'  re- 
spectable as  to  numbers;  resoectable  as  representing  the  most 
advanced  intelligence;  respectable  as  containing  sincere 
and  energetic  representatives  from  all  classes:  the  minority 
to  reach  which  these  pages  are  written.  Give  Socialists  such 
a  minority — give  them  only  10.000  such  men  in,  say,  twenty 
3'ears  from  now,  in  a  ])opulation  of  75  millions,  and  our  coun- 
try and  its  future  is  theirs! 

Socialists  are  the  only  social  philosophers  who  can  be  called 
pnrpnsrfal^  the  only  ones  in  the  whole  wide  world  who  can 
dispense  with  connnonplaces  and  slippery  words  and  i)brases 
and  who  i)resent  clear  cut,  didinite  solutions.     It  is,  of  course- 


THE  COMING  REVOLUTION.  267 

to  the  discontented  that  they  address  themselves ;  tliey  hav<| 
nothing  to  say  to  such  as  think  tliat  tlie  world  is  good  ouongh 
as  it  is.  Neither  have  they  any  bnsiness  with  tliat  verj'  huge 
class  of  poor  men,  clerks  especially,  who  toil  on  from  dny  to 
day,  in  tiie  hope  of  being  some  da}',  by  some  lucky  aecident, 
rich  themselves,  so  that  they  in  their  turn  can  lord  it  over  oth- 
ers. It  is  that  class  particularly  iliat  till  the  ranks  of  our 
Ptate-niiiitia  and  who  with  alaci  ity  obe.}^  the  command  to  shoot 
down  such  of  their  fellows  as  have  been  goaded  on  to  rebel- 
lion. It  is  a  most  contemptible  class  of  men ;  the  motive  that 
leads  them  is  a  contemptible  one.  and  yet  it  is  such  men  who 
are  patted  on  the  back  by  "  our  best  i)eopIe  "  and  called  ••  am- 
bitions." 

It  is,  of  course,  to  the  discontented  wage-workers  that  So- 
cialists can  appeal  witli  the  greatest  chance  of  success.  To 
them  they  can  say : 

'"•Look  the  future  confidently  in  the  face.  T!ie  golden  age 
of  which  poets  have  sung  has  proved  a  cruel  ilkision — cruel, 
for  as  long  as  it  lasted,  it  served  as  the  greatest  stumbling- 
block  to  your  improvement.  In  exchange  for  that  wili-o-the- 
wisp  we  give  you  anothei',  a  real  Golden  Age,  at  whose  thresli- 
old  you  stand.  If  you  do  not  enter  into  it.  your  children  may.*' 
It  is  to  the  wage-class  that  the  rankest  injustice  is  being  done. 
To  lay  bare  that  injustice  is.  first  of  all.  the  mission  of  So- 
cialism, :ind  as  Carlyle  says:  '•Hunger,  nakedness,  death 
even,  may  be  borne  sometimes  with  cheerfulness,  but  injustice 
is  insupportable  to  all  men." 

To  the  thoughtful  among  our  small  middle-men  it  ought  to 
be  easy  enough  to  prove;  the  Socialist  State  their  sole  refuge 
from  the  cares  and  troubles  that  now  beset  them. 

It  will  not  take  many  years,  before  the  eyes  of  farmers  will 
be  opened  to  the  fact  tliat  the  vast  majority  of  them  must  neces- 
sarily become  tenant-farmers  and  tlieir  farms  gobbled  up  by 
the  rich  under  a  system  of  unrestricted  competition.  Then  we 
undoubtedly  can  convince  some,  that  Socialism  is  the  only 
system  that  can  secure  a  civilized  life  to  their  descendants. 

And  even  to  many  in  the  professions  we  can  with  propriety 
appeal.    Indeed,  as  we  already  have  said,  many,  if  not  mosi 


208  THE  COMING  REVOLUTION. 

of  onr  literary  men,  lawyers,  pl)5^sicians,  journalists,  and  last, 
tliougli  not  least,  teachers  are  anioiig- the  dis-inheritetl.  Only 
tlioseatthetop — most  of  whom  are  in  one  way  or  another  the 
retainers  of  our  money-bags — have  any  motive  to  side  with  the 
Established  Order.  Of  course,  all  aspiring  young  professional 
ruen  start  out  with  great  expectations;  but  what  a  grievous 
disappointment  does  life  prove  to  the  great  m.ijority  of  them  I 
Before  they  reach  middle  age  they  Avill  have  given  up  all  their 
^rand  plans,  and  they  will  consider  it  the  summit  of  success, 
if  they  can  secure  a  decent  livelihood.  Most  of  them  will  fail 
lamentably  even  in  that.  To  my  personal  knowledge  hun- 
dreds of  talented  persons  of  that  class  now  live  a  most  pre- 
carious existence,  and  are  glad  to  sleep  at  night  on  the  lounge 
in  the  office  of  some  more  successful  brother,  and  do  not  know 
for  certain  whether  they  will  have  a  meal  the  next  day.  Such 
a  man's  refinement  has  become  his  curse. 

To  such  men  the  Coming  Revolution  should  be  just  as  wel- 
come as  to  any  mechanic  or  common  laborer.  How  their  tal- 
ents would  unfold  themselves  and  their  energies  be  roused  un- 
der that  inspiring  enrnlation  which  the  New  Order  will  inau- 
,  gurate!  Talent,  genius  and  intellect  will  in  our  Common- 
wealth have  their  due  influence,  what  they  never  had  before. 

Neither  ought  it  to  be  very  difflcnltto  convince  such  women 
who  take  any  interest  in  public  affairs  and  labor  tor  the  ele- 
vation of  their  s^^x  that  no  lasting  benefit  will  be  conferred 
cither  on  Society  or  their  sisters  by  making  women  into  sec- 
ond-rate men,  and  very,  very  little  benefit  b}'  their  obtaininoj 
the  suilVage  in  tlie  present  state  of  things ;  while  it  is  very  mucli 
to  be  apprehended  that  when  political  "riglits''  are  minced 
twice  as  much  again  as  they  already  are,  they  will  seem  and 
in  fact  become  absolutely  worthless.  Socialism  is  evidently 
far  iiiore  capable  of  elevating  the  female  sex  both  by  ennobling 
the  men  and  by  enabling  women  themselves  to  assert  their 
uignky. 

Ai:d  everywhere  in  all  conditions  of  life  there  are  thought- 
lal.  gti.eions  yodths  who  cannot  keep  wondering  at  the  man- 
ife--ti>  Uhjust  arrangements  of  this  world.  Youths  who  can- 
not help  asking  why  so  many   whose  work  is  only   nominal 


THE  COMIXG  REVOLUTION.  2G9 

enonld  live  In  splendor,  while  those  whose  d.iily  toilprocliiees 
all  that  makes  existence  enjoyable  and  even  possible  have  such 
a  hai'd  struggle  for  life.  Youths,  who  then  dream  of  impos- 
sible '-remedies"  and,  likeThoir.as  More  in  his  "Utopia.*"  con- 
struct castles  in  the  air.  Youths  who  by  and  by,  when  they 
have  been  chilled  by  contact  with  the  cold  realities  of  life  un- 
der this  Established  Order,  will  come  to  look  back  on  these 
dreams  as  mere  foolishness! 

Ah.  youths !  "when  those  phantoms  fade,  some  portions  of 
your  better  nature  will  die  within  you.  too  I  " 

Might  we  not  expect  that  the  eyes  of  such  youths, — and 
even  of  mature  men  who  have  had  such  dreams  and  notfor^ 
gotten  them — to  kindle  with  enthusiasm,  and  their  hearts  to 
beat  quicker  upon  learning  that  many  of  tlieir  fellows  are  bent 
with  all  their  energies  on  making  glorious  realities  out  of  those 
dreams?  As  Novalis  says :  "  My  belief  has  gained  inlinitely 
to  me  from  the  moment  any  other  human  being  has  l)egun  to 
believe  the  same."  Why  then  might  we  not  expect  many  of 
such  men  to  throw  themselves  into  this  movement  of  ours,  as 
soon  as  they  find  out  v:hat  it  reaUy  means? 

It  is  a  slander  to  say  that  the  American  people  cannot  be 
excited  by  an  ideal,  that  they  only  care  for  the '•Almighty 
"Dollar."  Our  war  of  the  Ilevolution  was  fought  for  a  point 
of  honor.  The  Kebellion  was  fought  for  ideas.  But  small 
ends  do  not  rouse  anybody's  enthusiasm.  Civil  service  ••  re- 
forms" and  other  ••Utopias" — and  small  Utopias  at  that — are 
not  likely  to  make  one's  blood  throb  the  quicker,  'i'o  cut  off 
each  head  of  an  ever-growing  hydra  as  it  appears  is  a  tire- 
some process,  and  will  seem  an  idle,  wasteful  proceeding  to 
any  practical  mind.  But  to  help  evolve  a  New  Social  Order 
which  is  ••  struggUng — convulsively,  desperatelj'-  struggling— 
to  be  born  "  is  an  Ciid,  grand  enough  to  fill  the  noblest  soul  with 
the  most  ardent  zeal ! 

And  because  it  is  vv«'li  known  what  repelling  effects  mere 
words  may  have  on  the  minds  of  men,  and  because  •'  Social- 
ism" once  had  such  an  effect  on  the  writer  himself,  we  add  : 
Let  not  the  consideration  frighten  j^ou,  that  it  is  an  "ism  I" 
Why,  even  Christianity  was  for  four  hundred  years  an  "ism." 


270  THE  CO.AIIXG  REVOLUTION. 

Every  itloal.  that  is.  every  "'  soul  of  the  future  "'  is  an  ''  ism  *' 
as  lon;^  MS  it  is  waitiii^:^  lor  its  boily.  When  Soeialisni  becomes 
embodied,  it  leaves  its  ••  ism  ''  beliind  and  is  realized  as  the  New 
Social  Order, — Social  Cooperation. 

\t  is  for  various  reasous  just  such  young  men  as  those  of  whom 
we  have  spoken,  of  all  classes,  that  we  should  try  to  enroll  as 
members  of  our  effective  muiority  and  for  which  I  have  written 
this  book.  Elderly  people  have  already  made  up  their  minds — 
iudeed  the  man  who  has  reached  forty  and  has  not  made  up  his 
mind  may  pretty  safely  be  put  down  as  a  poor  specimen  of 
a  man.  And  then  there  is  a  weightier  reason.  Though  there 
is  no  man  living  wise  enough  to  say  when  the  Coming  Kevo- 
lution  will  occur,  we  can  say  that  there  is  little  probability 
that  it  will  occur  this  centur3^  Now.  j'ou  cannot  ask  an  elder- 
ly man  to  prepare  for  something  which  he  probably  will 
not  live  to  witness.  You.  on  the  other  hand,  can  with  the 
greatest  show  of  success  appeal  to  the  ardor  and  hope  and 
sympathy  of  youth  or  young  men  of,  sa}^,  30  years  to  prepare 
for  fin  event  in  which  they  may  be  principal  actors  when  they 
reach  ripe  manhood.  And  that  is  just  what  that  effective  minor- 
ity principally  will  have  to  do — prepare^  prepare  themselves  and 
their  peoph-  for  the  Great  Change.  Not,  as  we  already  said  in 
the  Introduction,  to  ma/t;e  any  revolution,  but  to  make  them- 
selves, and  the  Nation  as  much  as  possible,  ready  for  the  Com- 
ing lleV' olution,  to  meet  it  when  it  comes,  peaceably  or ''  cUid  in 
iron  sandals"  and  to  carr}'' it  out.  To  accomplish  this,  the 
llrst  thing  needed  is  organization,  next,  organization,  and.  last- 
ly', organization,  in  order  that  they  may  become  perfectly  ac- 
quainted with  each  other,  come  to  have  confidence  in  each 
otluM*,  'ind  study  tojjether  the  great  philosophy  and  the  means 
of  realizing  it.  That  minority  ought,  indeed,  to  come  to  a 
unanimous  agreement  as  to  every  principal  step  that  must  be 
taken  to  make  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  a  success  from 
the  very  start  and  until  it  is  in  full  working  order. 

And  they  should  also,  as  we  said,  as  much  as  possible  pre- 
])are  their  countrymen.  They  should  continually  keep — not 
tlRMuselves,  mark  you  I — but  their  cause  before  the  people. 
They  can  do  this  very  effectually  in  two  ways:  each  one  in 


THE  COMING  EEVOLITTION.  271 

his  own  neigliborhood,  iii  his  immediate  circle  of  personal 
frieiius  and  acquaintances,  by  direct  appeals  to  their  under- 
standing, sympathies  and  interests,  and  all,  in  mutual  accord, 
through  the  general  newspapers  of  the  country.  It  is  foli}'- 
to  waste  money  and  energy  in  starting  special  journals  for  the 
propagation  of  new  ideas — that  is  my  private  opinion.  1  have 
always  found  that  there  are  in  every  city  of  any  consequence 
sonif^  new£pai>ers  of  established  eir-julation,  ready  enough  to 
publish  notices  andarti<des,  if  only  they  are  temperately,  and 
especially  icftiZ  written— just  such  comments  and  appeals  as 
we  may  expect  from  the  class  of  persons  we  have  in  mind — 
force  and  fire  and  no  fioth.  But  the  important  thing,  always 
to  be  heeded,  about  this  latter  form  of  agitation,  is  that  it  bs 
carried  on  systematically. 

This  will  be  work  enough  for  anybody,  however  zealous :  be- 
side this  that  minority  can  do  nothing  better  than — wait  with 
l)atieiice. 

Wait  for  what? 

For  the  natural  culmination  of  the  present  system,  (as  to 
which  we  refer  to  our  third  chapter)  and  for  the  outburst  of 
Passion. 

Passion? — Yes.  We  are  not  indebted  to  Reason  for  the  land- 
marks of  human  progress :  not  for  the  introduction  of  Chris- 
tianit}'.  not  for  the  institution  of  the  monastic  order-,  not 
for  the  Crusades,  not  for  the  Reformation,  not  for  the  Ameri- 
can Revolution,  !iot  for  tlio  abolition  of  slavery.  Man  is  only 
Vresistible  when  he  acts  from  passion.  We  are  tirst  to  be 
philosophers  in  order  to  prepare  for  and  carry  out  the  Coming 
Pevolution,  but  no  walls  are  now-a-days  tlirovvn  down  by  blasts 
of  trumpets.  The  masses  of  men  are  never  moved  except  by 
passions,  feelings,  interest. 

Xow  it  is  possible  that  these  passions  of  our  people,  or  of 
the  British  people,  will  be  roused  by  what  may  transpire  on 
the  continent  of  Europe.  For  we  liave  no  doubt  that  tbe  first 
serious  attempt  to  realize  Socialism  will  be  made  there.  There 
is  Germany,  where  our  ideas  have  reached  their  highest  devel- 
opment both  in  depth  and  in  breadth,  and  whose  people  seepi 


272  THE  COMING  REVOLUTION. 

ill  the  last  i^eneration  to  have  modified  their  former  pure  re- 
llectivc  ness.  Formerly  tiiey  paused  to  reflect  so  much,  tli;it 
they  were  slow  in  action;  now  they  simply  make  sure  before- 
hand of  every  detail  which  might  make  them  hesitate  in  ac- 
tion. 

Then  there  is  France,  there  is  Paris.  Not  the  frivolous  do- 
based  Paris  of  the  sight-seer,  but  earnest  Paris,  for  a  century 
the  heart  of  the  world ;  whose  victories  have  been  the  victories 
ot  mankind,  her  defeats  its  defeats. 

We  know  what  an  excitement  the  French  Revolution  of  a 
hundred  years  ago  caused  in  the  minds  of  the  people  of 
'England,  and  notably  am  )ng  her  working  men,  then  in  their 
swaddling  clothes.  Certainly,  then,  in  this  age  tlie  establish- 
mf^nt  of  Socialism  either  in  Germany  or  France  would  exer- 
cise a  tremendous  influence  both  here  and  in  Great  Britain. 

If  we,  the  American  Nation,  are  anything,  we  are  practical. 
If  we  are  not  apt  to  originate  any  new  political  and  social  ideas, 
we  liave  a  wonderful  aptitude  for  copying  the  good  points  of 
successful!}''  working  models.  We,  therefore,  think,  that  it 
might  not  take  very  many  years — in  fact  no  longer  time  than 
would  be  needful  to  rub  our  eyes  in  order  to  find  out  whether 
we  were  really  awake — before  we  should  set  to  work  to  copy 
that  Socialist  State. 

But  the  diHicultles  in  the  way  of  snccess  on  the  continent 
are  so  great — the  consideration,  that  even  a  completely  suc- 
cessful revolution  in  any  one  of  these  countries  may.  on  ac- 
count of  their  geographical  position,  not  prove  sullicient  to 
insure  the  stability  of  the  New  Social  Order, — these  difli- 
eulties  form  such  a  threatening  shadow  on  the  horizon,  that 
we  cannot  but  tremble  for  a  possible  successful  counter-revo- 
lution. 

And  then  there  are  really  many  reasons  why  either  Great  Brit- 
ain or  our  own  country — the  universal  colon;/ — may  be  consid- 
ei-ed  tlie  i)lace  wliore  the  New  Commonwealth  will  be  first  suc- 
cessfully established. 

The  United  States  possesses  the  immense  advantage  that  it 
can  salely  make  the  first  experiment,  without  danger  of  any 
foreign  interference.     We  possess  the  advantage  of  being  an 


THE  COMING  REVOLUTION.  2T3 

eminently  practical  as  well  as  a  thoroughgoincr  people,  when 
we  are  roused.  Wq  have  withhi  lis*  the  rellectiveaess  of  tlie 
German  as  well  as  the  inoinfiitnin  of  the  Anglo-Saxon,  who.  if 
he  MJ«7Zs  to  jump  across  a  brook,  does  not  hesitate,  but  runs 
and  clears  it  with  a  bound.  We  furthermore  possess  for  an 
indetinite  period — to  be  determined  by  the  feai'S  and  blind 
anger  of  our  masters — the  privilege  to  agitate  without  restraint 
by  pen  and  tongue  and  thus  educate  and  organize  the  effect- 
ive minority. 

Great  Britain  has  the  same  advantages,  and  in  addition  the 
glorious  precedent:  Cromwell's  revolution,  '•'the  English 
Commonwealth,"  the  first  popular  revolt  against  divine  i-ights^ 
'•vested"  rights.  In  both  countries  the  culmination  of  the 
economic  evolution  is  nearer  than  elsewhere,  that  is,  division 
of  labor  and  concentration  of  wealtii  are  carried  further  than  ' 
elsewhere,  a  fact  of  tremendous  importance,  and  another  fact, 
only  second  in  importance,  i:i  both  countries,  is  the  organiza- 
tion of  their  wori^ers,  the  splendid  Trades-Unions  of  England 
and  our  own  Knights  of  Labor. 

"  Socialism  is  not  suited  to  the  genius  of  our  people"  we 
have  heard  some  say,  as  if  we  had  patented  a  new  order  of  life. 
Tiiese  Trade-unions,  and  Trades-assemblies,  and  Grangers  and 
Knights  of  Labor  precisely  prove  that  Socialism  is  suited  to 
the  genius  of  our  and  the  British  people.  The  central  spirit 
that  rules  these  unions  is  that  of  Socialism,  to  wit,  that  the 
interests  of  all  workers  are  the  same,  that  each  must  postpone 
his  own  advantage  to  the  common  good  and  each  yield  his  in- 
dividual prejudice  and  crochet  to  the  collective  judgment. 

Those  of  the  working-classes  who  become  enrolled  in  our 
effective  minority  can  d)  'io  better  work  than  strengthen  these 
unions  in  every  possible  way.  Through  them  their  fellow- 
wcrkers  are  sure  of  getting  3  >^Ialist  hearts — tlie  Socialist  heads 
will  come  in  due  time.  And  be;U'  in  mind,  that  it  is  these  or- 
ganized labor-battalions  that '^re  to  form  the  lever  by  means  of 
wiiich  the  new  ideas  are  to  move  Society. 

•lust  on  account  of  these  organizations,  and  because  they  will 
b<^come  '.nvaluable  skeletons  on  the  establishment  of  the  New 
Order  (as  we  have  emphasized  in  another  place,)  we  thmk  that 


274  th:e  coming  revolution. 

the  United  States,  but  particularly  Great  Brittain,  are  nearer 
the  realization  of  Socialism  than  generally  supposed. 

Most  Americans  remember  the  rising  of  the  workingnaen  in 
July  1877.  That  rising  was  to  all  Socialists,  also  to  those  who 
held  aloof  from  it,  a  most  promising  sign.  'J'he  tirst  revolt 
of  American  white  slaves  against  their  task-masters! 

That  it  was  accompanied  by  excesses  by  the  most  neglected 
si  ratum  of  Society  was  unfortunate  but  unavoidable.  I'liis 
stratum  is  just  the  worst  heritage  which  capitalism  leaves  on 
our  hand. 

In  a  very  short  time  we  shall  have  another  series  of  years 
of  hard  time.     Remember  what  we  said  about  '*  Crises  "  in  the 
second  chapter.    We  expect  another  revolt  then,  more  serious 
than  the  tirst.    That  most  likely  will  also  be  suppressed  with 
comparative  ease. 

A  few  more  years  elapse.  Another  "  crisis,'' yet  more  se- 
vere, shows  its  hideous  head.  The  screws  of  distress  are  turned 
yet  more  on  the  wage-workers.  Another  most  serious  revolt. 
Possibly  powder  and  shot  will  suppress  that,  too. 

But  in  the  tulness  of  time  we  shall  have  a  labor  revolt  that 
will  not  be  put  down.  Then  is  the  time  for  the  energetic  So- 
cialist minority  to  exert  its  influence.  There  is  nothing  that 
the  people  in  such  a  crisis  hail  more  than  leaders^  nothing  they 
hungei"  and  thirst  more  after  than  clear-cut,  definite  solutions. 

All  the  horrors  of  the  French  llevolution  and  the  sad  fact 
that  Napoleon  the  First  became  a  necessity  were  due  to  the 
circumstance,  that  the  revolution  had  no  leaders.  We  do  not 
mean  to  say.  that  that  revolution  was  a  failure,  for  it  did  ac- 
complish every  one  of  its  objects:  the  abolition  of  privi- 
leges, the  dispossession  of  the  land-owners  and  free  competi- 
tion, but  the  price  paid  was  exorbitant. 

In  our  civil  war,  on  the  other  hand,  it  was  the  abolitionists 
that  successfully  assumed  the  leadership,  and  probably  exer- 
ted all  the  influence  to  whicn  they  were  entitled. 

That  the  Socialist  minority  must  do  wlien  the  crisis  comes, 
and  make  out  of  a  revolt — another  revolution. 

Be  confident  that  the  people  will  follow.  In  such  times  men 
become  awake,  shake  off  nightmares ;  the  experience  of  years 


THE  COMING  REVOLUTION.  275 

is  crowded  into  hours.  Novelties  which  at  first  sight  inspire 
dread  become  in  a  few  daj's  familiar,  then  endurable,  then 
attractive. 

That  is  one  way  in  which  Socialism  may  be  realized. 

Here  our  mind  Is  involuntarily  directed  to  a  remarkable 
book:  Jlie  Coming  Bace,  said  to  be  by  Bulwer.  It  repres<vnt3 
a  race,  living  underground  in  a  great  number  of  small  com- 
munities, as  having  attained  to  a  perfect  social  state.  It  may  b^ 
considered  an  ingenious  satire  on  a  Socialist  Commonwealth 
but  no  matter,  it  is  highly  interesting.  That  which  at  thife 
point  led  our  thoughts  upon  it  is  a  wonderful  natural  force 
which  those  people  are  said  to  have  discovered,  which  they 
call  VrU.  It  can  be  stored  in  a  small  wand,  which  rests  in  the 
hollow  of  the  palm  and,  when  skillfully  wielded,  can  rend 
rocks,  remove  any  natural  obstacles,  scatter  the  strongest 
fortress  and  make  the  weak  a  perfect  match  for  any  combin- 
ation of  number,  skill  and  discipline.  No  wonder  that  these 
people  attribute  their  equality,  their  freedom,  felicity  and  ad- 
vancement to  this  discovery. 

What  if  this  ••  Vril "  is  but  a  poetic  anticipation  of  the  civ- 
ilizing power  of  that  real,  energetic  substance  which  we  call — 
dynamite  I 

Again,  we  all  have  heard  of  the  "anti-monopoly"  move- 
ment. That  is  a  war,  political  and  otherwise,  of  one  class  of 
fleecers  against  another  class  of  fleecers ;  of  industrial  and 
mercantilecannibalsiigainst  moneyed  and  corporate  cannibals. 
There  is  no  love  lost  between  the  two  classes  just  as  little  as 
between  two  veritable  cannibals.  No  one  can  tell  to  what  ex- 
tremities the  war  between  them  may  not  go.  But  the  follow- 
ing correspondence  to  the  New  York  Sun  from  Titusville  Pa., 
of  Nov.  4th  1S78,  may  give  us  an  idea  of  possible  coming 
events: 

"  The  flict  is,  the  State  of  Pennsylvania  has  had  a  narrow 
escape  from  an  internal  civil  war.  Had  certain  men  given  the 
word,  there  would  have  been  an  outbreak  that  contemplated 
the  seizure  of  the  railroads  and  running  them,  the  capture  and 
control  of  the  United  Pipe  Lines  property,  and  in  all 
probability  the  burning  of  all  the  property  of  the  Stand- 


276         *  THE  COMING  REVOLUTION. 

ard  Oil  Company  in  the  region.  The  men  who  would  have 
done  this,  and  luay  do  it  yet,  are  not  laborers  or  tramps.''^ 

The  Coming  Revolution  may  arise  out  of  a  simihir  struggle 
between  our  fleecing  classes.  Revolutions,  liowever,  liave  no 
precedents.  The  wisest  of  us  may  err  as  much  as  Ulrich  Von 
Ilutten  did  in  the  days  preceding  the  Reformation.  Ulrich 
was  far  in  advance  of  Luther  wlien  the  latter  took  hold  of  his 
mission.  Then  he  wrote  in  a  letter,  still  extant,  to  the  effect 
that  he  heard  that  a  monk  had  become  rebellious.  ''  It  de- 
lights me*'  he  vvrote  in  substance,  ''to  hear  of  a  rebellion  in 
the  bosom  of  II0I3'  Mother  Church.  How  I  wish  the  two  par- 
ties may  tear  eacli  other  to  pieces!  "  Yet  it  was  just  Lnther 
and  not  the  clear-sighted  nobleman  whom  tlie  logic  of  events 
selected  as  its  orgtm. 

Just  as  impossible  it  is  to  say,  when  we  may  expect  the  Com- 
ing IJevolution.  But  it  is  worth  reflecting  on,  that  a  prudent 
man  in  1S53  would  hardly  have  taken  upon  himself  to  foretell 
the  abolition  of  slavery  in  18G.'3. 

But  the  Great  Change  is  coming. 

In  the  words  of  Carlyle: 

''  Will  not  one  French  Revolution  snfflce,  or  must  there  be 
two?  There  will  be  two  if  needed ;  there  will  be  twenty  if 
needed ;  there  will  be  just  as  many  as  needed.''^ 

When  the  Cooperative  Commonwealth  is  achieved,  there 
will  be  no  room  for  any  more  revolutions.  For  revolutions 
are  caused  by  the  clashings  of  class-inteiests,  and  all  class- 
distinctions  are  forever  abolished  themoment  the  lowest  class 
is  fully  incorporated  into  Society. 

But  there  will  be  plenty  of  room  for  progress,  for  further 
evolution.  Even  our  Commonwealth,  though  it  may  take  a 
long  period  to  develop  it.  is  but  a  step  of  the  evolution.  One 
Connnonwealtli  after  anothor  may  decay  and  disappear,  but 
they  will  all  contribute  to  the  upbuilding  of  the  Onjanism  of 
Humanity. 

With  Organized  TTumanity  will  be  evolved  the  Coming  Re- 
ligion, though  we  already  noticed  it  in  the  preceding  chapter, 
because  people  persist  in  mixing  uj)  morals  and  religion.    But 


THE  COMING  REVOLUTION.  277 

morals  really  relates  to  the  social  orgamsm:  it  makes  the  good 
citizen.  Religion  relates  to  niiuiauity  and  makm  the  saint. 
The  Coming  rJeligioii  will  make  us  feel  that  we  are  here  for 
the  salve  of  Humanity,  with  wliose  fate  it  may  be  found  that 
we  are  personally  far  more  concerned  than  is  now  supposed ; 
it  will  make  holiness  consist  in  identifying  ourselves  with  Hu- 
manity— the  redeemed  f  orrti  of  man — as  the  lover  merges  him- 
self in  the  beloved.  Individualism :  the  deception  that  we 
have  been  born  into  this  world  each  for  the  sake  of  himself  * 
or  family,  friend  or  kindred,  Selfness^  will  be  acknowledged  to 
be  the  satanic  element  of  our  nature. 

We  therefore  more  than  doubt,  we  deny. Ward's  proposition  . 
that  individual  happiness  is  the  end  of  human  life.  If  it  is, 
the  existences  that  were  made  miserable  in  order  that  man- 
kind might  be  trained  up  to  Social-Cooperation  were  failures; 
they  are  decidedly  not  fiiilures,  if.  as  we  hold,  the  end  of 
the  individual  existence  is  to  further  the  evolution  of  Human- 
ity, in  whose  fate  it  may  be  found,  as  we  repeat,  that  we  have 
a  greater  stake  than  is  supposed.  But  happiness  is  iifact;  a? 
an  incident  ot  life  and  not  an  object  of  pursuit,  it  is  a  bless- 
ed fact.     It  is  to  man  what  the  odor  is  to  the  rose. 

That  the  Xew  Commonwealth  will  very  much  diffuse  and 
increase  individual  happiness  there  can  be  no  doubt.  It  will  • 
make  possible  tlie  harmonious  exercise  and  development  of 
all  human  faculties  in  everybody— that  itself  is  happiness. 
It  will,  by  banishing  care  and  giving  leisure,  enable  everyone 
to  become  familiar  with  all  that  is  known  about  the  universe 
and  to  explore  its  perpetual  wonders  and  pore  over  its  num- 
berless riddles  for  himself — and  that  is  more  than  happiness, 
it  is  rapture.  Finally,  it  will  be  the  grandest  vehicle  for  serv- 
ing Humanity  and  thereby  generate  the  purest  happiness,  pe»- 
fect  blessedness. 

But  blessedness  it  is  even  now  our  privilege  to  obtain.  We 
have  the  choice  to  live  as  Individualists  and  on  our  deathbed 
look  back  in  despair  on  a  dreary,  hateful  life  of  play-acting,  • 
or  as  Socialists  fill  oiu*  existences  with  those  serious  moods 
that  make  the  grand  tone  of  life,  and  in  the  hour  of  death 
stand  on  the  mountain-top,  as  it  were,  and  see  with  entranced 


278  THE  COMING  REVOLUTION". 

eyes  the  ra3'S  of  the  Sun  that  soon  will  illumine  the  dark  valleys 
below.  I,  for  my  part,  deem  it  worth  ten  crucifixions  to  win 
lor  my  memory  a  fraction  of  the  adoiing  love  which  millioua 
oi  the  uoblest  men  aud  women  have  felt  for  a  Jesus. 


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FORE  AND   AFT.    A  Story  of  Actual  Sea-Life.     By  Robert  B. 
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VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.  A  Geographical  Jour- 
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FOUR   MONTHS   IN   A   SNEAK-BOX.      A  Boat- Voyage  of 

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and   along   the   Gulf   of    Mexico.      By   Nathaniel   H.  Bishop. 

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Ziun^n  Htruld. 

A    THOUSAND     MILES'     WALK     ACROSS     SOUTH 
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it,  aud  wish  there  had  been  more." 

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nccomjilished  writer  of  "  Newport  Breezes." 
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of  things  we  never  heard  of  betoi'e,  and  is  wortli  two  ordinary  books  on 

Kuropean  tia\el."  —  Wouiairs  JouvikiL 

AN  AMERICAN   GIRL,  ABROAD.    By  Miss  Adeline  Traf- 
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ihat  is  delightful." —  I'ticQ  Obstrrn'. 

BEATEN   PATHS  ;  or,  A  Woman's  Vacation  in  Europe. 

By  Ella  W.  THOMPt^oN.     16mo.     Cloth.     $1.50. 
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A  SUMMER   IN  THE  AZORES,  with  a  Glimpse  of  Ma- 
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])ictuie  of  the  quaint  people  and  customs." —  Chicago  Advance. 

ENGLAND    FROM    A   BACK   WINDOW ;  With  Views 

o?  Scotland   and  Ireland.    P>y  J.  M.  Bailey,  the  " 'i)an- 

biiiy  News'  Man."     I'imo.     ?rl..')0. 

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OVER  THE  OCEAN;  or,  Sig-hts  and  Scenes  in  Foreig-n 
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ABROAD  AGAIN;  or,  Fresh  Forays  in  Foreign  Fields, 
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8vo.     Chnh,  .*2.5(). 
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»n  interesting  companion."  —  IJali/ux  Citizen. 


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THE    DOUGLAS    NOVELS. 

By  Miss  Amanda  M.  Douglas. 
Uniform    I'olumea.  Price  $1.50  each. 

A  WOMAN'S   INHERITANCE. 
'  Like  all  Ihe  lomances  ot  ^li.ss  Douglas,  thi.s  ntory  has  a  fascination 
about  it  which  eiichuias  the  reader's  atteutiuu  uulii  the  eiid." — Balti- 
more A'e't'.s. 

OUT  OF  THE  WRECK;    or,  was  it  a  Victory? 

"Bright  and  entertaining  as  Miss  Douglas's  stories  always  are,  thia, 
her  new  one,  leads  them  all."  —  ^eic-Bedjord  Standard. 

FLOYD    GRANDON'S    HONOR. 

"  Fasclhating  throughout,  and  worthy  of  the  reputatiou  of  the  author." 
R- Philadtlphia  Methodist. 

WHOM    KATHIE    MARRIED. 
Kathie  was  the  heroine  of   the  popular   series  of    I\athic  Stones  for 
young  people,  the  readers  of  which  were  very  anxious  to  know  with 
whom  Kathie  settled  down  in  life.     Hence  this  etoiy,  charmingly  written. 

LOST    IN    A    GREAT    CITY. 
"There  is  the  power  of  delineation  and  robustness  of  expression  that 
would  credit  a  masculine  hand  in  the  pi'esenl  volume,  and  tlie  reader 
will  at  no  stage  of  the  reading  regret  having  commenced  its  perusal.    lu 
some  parts  it  is  pathetic,  even  to  eloquence." —  Sa)i  Fraiui-sco  Punt. 

THE   OLD    WOMAN   WHO   LIVED    IN    A    SHOE. 

"  The  romances  of  Miss  Douglas's  creation  are  all  thiillingly  iulerest- 
ing." —  Cdinfjridge  Tribune. 

HOPE   MILLS ;  or.  Between  Friend  and  Sweetheart. 
"Amanda  Douglas  is  one  of  the  favorite  authors  cf  American  uovel- 
readers."  —  Manclienter  JIi7-ror. 

FROM    HAND    TO    MOUTH. 
"There  5s  real  satisfaction  in  reading  this  book,  from  the  fact  that  we 
can  so  readily  '  take  it  home  '  to  ourselves."  —  Portland  Argus. 

NELLY    KINNARD'S    KINGDOM. 

"  The  Hartford  lieiigious  Herald  "  says,  "  This  story  is  so  fascinating, 
that  one  can  hardly  lay  it  down  after  taking  it  up." 

IN    TRUST;   or.  Dr.  Bertrand's  Household. 
"  She  writes  in  a  free,  fresh,  and  natural  way;  and  her  characters  are 
T.ever  overdrawn." — Manclie-ste')'  Mirror. 

CLA.UDIA. 
"  The  plot  is  very  dramatic,  and  the  deiwument  startling.    Claudia,  the 
heroine,  is  one  of  those  self-sacrilicing  characters  which  it  is  the  glorjf  of 
th3  female  sex  to  produce."  —  Boston  Journal. 

STEPHEN    DANE. 
"  This  is  one  of  this  author's  liappiest  and  most  successful  attempts  at 
novel-writing,  for  which  a  grateful  public  will  applaud  her."  —  Herald. 

HOME    NOOK  ;   or,  the  Crown  of  Duty. 
"  An  interesting  story  of  liome-life,  not  wanting  in  incident,  and  written 
in  forcible  and  attractive  style."  — New-  York  Graphic. 

SYDNIE    ADRIANCE ;    or,  Trying-  the  World. 
"  The  works  of  Miss  Douglas  have  stood  the  test  of  popular  judgment, 
and  become  the  fashion.     Thej'  are  true,  natural  in  delineation,  pu'"**  'Mid 
elevating  iu  their  tone."  — Erpress,  Easton,  Penn. 

SEVEN    DAUGHTERS, 
rhe  charm  of  the  story  is  the  perfectly  natural  and  home-likfr  ai»  «>.)^CJI| 
pervades  It. 

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Lee  and  Shepard's  Original  Idea. 

ILLUSTRATED    HYMNS,    POEMS,    AND    SONGS. 

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IT   WAS  THE    CALM    AND  SILENT 

NIGHT. 

By   ALFRED    DOMETT. 


MY    FAITH    LOOKS    UP  TO   THEE. 
By  ray  palmer. 


NEARER,   MY    GOD,  TO   THEE. 

By    SARAH    FLOWER    ADAMS. 


OH,  WHY  SHOULD  THE  SPIRIT  OF 
MORTAL    BE    PROUD? 

By    WILLIAM    KNOX. 


RING   OUT,  WILD    BELLS  1 

By   ALFhED    TENNYSON. 


H^  GIVETH  HIS  BELOVED  SLEEP. 

P-    ELIZABETH    BARRETT    BROWNING. 


Home,  sweet  home. 

BY    JOHN    HOWARD    PAYNE. 


ROCK    OF   AGES. 

By   AUGUSTUS    MONTAGUE    TOPLADY. 


THAT  GLORIOUS   SONG   OF   OLD. 

By    EDMUND    HAMILTON    SEARS. 


THE    BREAKING   WAVES    DASHED 

HIGH. 

By    FELICIA   HEMAN8. 


THE    LORD   IS   MY   SHEPHERD. 

THE  TWENTY-THIRO    PSAlM    IN   SONG  AND  SONNET, 
By   WILLIAM    C.    RICHARDS. 


ABIDE    WITH    ME. 

By    HENRY    FRANCIS    LYTE. 


COME  INTO  THE  GARDEN,  MAUD. 

By    ALFRED    TENNYSON. 


CURFEW    MUST    NOT    RING 
TO-NIGHT. 

By    ROSA    HARTWICK   THORPE. 


THE     MOUNTAIN     ANTHEM. 
THE    BEATITUDES. 

IN    RHYTHMIC    ECHOES. 
By    WILLIAM    C.    RICHARDS   (iN   PREPARATION). 


The  illustrations  in  all  the  volumes  of  this  series  designed  and  engraved 
expressly  for  them.     Xo  old  cuts  or  designs  used. 

The  covers  are  rich  and  elegant.  ''J'he  fringe,  tassel,  and  cord  of  fine 
silk.  The  protectors  neat  and  safe.  There  are  many  cheap  imitations 
of  our  original  idea.    E.xamine  well. 


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J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE'S  NOVELS. 

NEW   UNIFORM    EDITION. 
FARNELL'S  FOLLY. 

"  As  a  Novel  of  Amorican  Society,  this  book  lias  never  been  surpassed. 
Hearty  in  style  and  wholesome  in  tone.  Its  pathos  often  melting,  to 
tears,  its  humor  always  exciting  merriment." 

CUDJO'S    CAVE. 

Like  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  this  thrilling  story  was  a  stimulating 
power  in  the  civil  war,  and  had  an  immen.'^e  sale.  Secretary  Chase,  of 
President  Lincoln's  cabinet,  said  of  it,  "1  could  not  help  reading  it ;  it 
interested  and  impressed  me  prot'ouiidly.  ' 

THE    THREE    SCOUTS. 

Another  popular  book  of  the  same  stamp,  of  which  "  The  Boston  Tran- 
script"  said,  "It  promises  to  have  a  larger  sale  than  '  Cudjo's  Cave.' 
It  is  impossible  to  open  the  volume  at  any  page  without  being  struck  by 
the  qmck  movement  and  pervading  anecdote  of  the  story." 

THE    DRUMMER    BOY. 

A  Story  of  Burnside's  Expedition.     Illustrated  bj-  F.  O.  C.  Darley. 

"  The  most  popular  book  of  the  season.  It  will  sell  without  pushing." 
—  Zion's  Herald. 

MARTIN    MERRIVALE:    His    X    Mark. 

"  Strong  in  humor,  pathos,  and  unabated  interest.  In  none  of  the  books 
Issued  from  the  American  press  can  there  be  found  a  purer  or  more  deli- 
cate sentiment,  a  more  genuine  good  taste,  or  a  nicer  aijpreciation  and 
brighter  delineation  of  characier."  —  EngiiHli  Joarnul. 

NEIGHBOR    JACKWOOD. 

A  story  of  New-England  life  in  the  slave-tracking  days.  Dramatized 
for  the  Boston  Museum,  it  had  a  long  run  to  crowded  houses.  The  story 
is  oue  of  Trowbridge's  very  best. 

COUPON    BONDS,  and  other  Stories. 

The  leading  story  is  undoubtedly  the  most  popular  of  Trowbridge's 
short  stories.  The  others  aie  varied  in  character,  but  are  either  intensely 
interesting  or  "  highly  amusing." 

NEIGHBORS'    'WIVES. 

An  ingenious  and  well-told  story.  Two  neighbors'  wives  are  tempted 
beyond  their  strength  lo  resist,  and  steal  ?ach  from  the  other.  One  is 
discovered  in  the  act,  under  ludicrous  and  humiliating  circumstances, 
but  's  generously  pardoned,  with  a  premise  of  secrecy.  Of  course  she 
L«<t'<i"s  her  secret,  and  of  course  perplexities  come.     It  is  a  capital  story, 

12mo.     Cloth.    Price  per  volume,  §:l. 50. 


Sold  by  all  booksellers  and  neicsdealers,  and  sent  by  mail,  postpaUt, 
on  receipt  of  piice. 


HARRY  W.  FRENCH'S  BOOKS. 


THE   ONLY   ONE.     A  Novel.    16mo.    Cloth.     .$1.00. 

'•The  Only  One"  is  a  powerful  story,  dealing  with  the  lights  and 
ehadowK  of  life  in  America,  Nai)les,  and  Persia.  Written  in  a  dashing 
style,  sometimes  deeply  liaaic,  at  others  humorous  in  the  extreme,  it 
presents  pictures  of  human  life  that  attract  and  interest  by  their  natural- 
ness and  vividness. 

CASTLE  FOAM;  or.  The  Pauper  Prince,    A  story  of  real 
life,  true  love,   and   intrigue   in   the  brilliant   capital  of   Prussia. 
12mo.     $1.50. 
"A  novel  of  remarkable  power,  and  strangely  unlike  any  yet  written 

by  an  American.     'J'here  is  something  in   the  beauty  and  intensity  of 

expression  that  reminds  one  of  Bulwer  in  his  best  days." —  Cinciuuati 

OoiiDucfclaL 

NUNA,    THE    BRAMIN    GIRL.    Ifimo.    Cloth,    fl.25. 

•'  This  book  is  beautifully  written,  and  abounds  in  novel  and  dramatic 
incidents."  —  Si.  LouIh  Globe  Democrat. 

EGO,  The  Life  Strug'gles  of  Lawrence  Edwards.    i6mo. 

Cloth.     81.00. 
"Both   an   interesting  and  an  exciting  work,  written  with  freedom, 
effectiveness,  and  power."  —  Pliikuhlpliui  Item. 

GEMS    OP    GENIUS.     4to.    Illuminated  covers.     Gilt.     $2.00. 

"Fifty  full-page  illustrations,  selected  from  the  art-works  of  as  many 
foreign  painters,  with  text  descri;)tive  of  each,  from  the  pen  of  one  of 
our  native  Ruskins."  — New  ■  York.  Mail. 

ART    AND    ARTISTS.     A  history  of  the  birth  of  art  in  America, 

with  biographical  studies  of  many  prominent  American  artists,  and 

nearly  one  hundred  illus.  from  their  studios,     (,'loth.    Gilt.    $3.00. 

"A  work  that  will  grow  in  value  every  year,  showing  the  most  patient 

research  and  elaboration,  skilfully  executed,  and  admirably  worked  up. 

An  honor  to  the  author,  an  honor  to  the  publishers,  an  honor  to  the 

country."  — Xew  -  York  Ecenlng  Po>!t. 

OUR  BOYS  IN  INDIA.    The  wanderings  of  two  young  Americans 

in  Hindustan,  with  their  exciting  adventures  on  the  sacred  rivers 

and  wild  mountains.     With  14o  illustrations.     Koyal  octavo,  7  x  9| 

inches.     Bound  in  emblematical  covers  of  Oriental  design,  $1.75. 

Cloth,  black  and  gold,  $2.')0. 

A  new  edition  of  the  most  i)opu!ar  of  books  of  travel  for  young  folks, 

issued  last  season.     While  it  has  all  the  exciting  interest  of  a  romance, 

it  is  remarkably  vivid  in  its  pictures  of  manners  and  customs  in  the  land 

of  the  Hindu.     The  illustratioiis  are  many  and  excellent. 

OU'R   BOYS    IN    CHINA.     The  adventures  of  two  young  .Vmeri- 
cans,  wrecked  in  the  China  Sea  on  their  return  from  India,  with 
their  strange  wanderings  through  the  Chinese  Empire.     1S8  Illus- 
trations.     Boards,  ornamental  covers  in   colors   and   gold,  $1.75. 
Cloth,  $-2.50. 
After  successfully  starting  the  young  heroes  of  his  previous  book, 
"Our  Boys  in   India,"  on   their  homeward  trij),  the  i)opular  lecturer, 
extensive  traveller,  and  remarkable  story-teller,  has  them  wrecked  in  the 
China  Sea,  saved,  aid  transported  across  China;  givlny  him  an  opportu- 
nity to  spread  for  young  folks  an  appetizing  feast  of  good  things. 


Sold  by  all  book:  "T  trs,  aixf  sent  by  mail,  postpaid,  on  receipt  o/  price, 

LEE   &,  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston. 


^^XOr^MUMJr.'i 


^  14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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